


Love Shots

by fab_fan



Series: Drunk Words - Sober Thoughts [11]
Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Drunk!Raelle, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Shenanigans, F/F, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Idiots in Love, Married Life, Pre-Marriage, Random & Short, So Married, exasperated but in love scylla, sometimes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:27:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 67,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25213153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fab_fan/pseuds/fab_fan
Summary: A place for random little tidbits in the Drunk Words - Sober Thoughts Universe that are too short to warrant standing alone. Because this whole thing has grown into a monster that simply will not be stopped.------“Goddess, I forgot how sassy you get after sex,” Raelle grasped her wrist, lightly tugging her back into her arms, “I plan a whole night, and this is what I get.”Scylla smirked, “Drinks, dessert, and sex?” She let her eyes drift down to pale pink wet lips before finding blue orbs through hooded eyes, “With your wife all night?”“All night?”“Until your hangover hits, and you’re grumpy all day.”
Relationships: Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Series: Drunk Words - Sober Thoughts [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1755784
Comments: 360
Kudos: 883





	1. Sweet Chaser

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after Baby Buzz but before First Drink, First Love.

“You are so beautiful.” Raelle whispered, blue eyes sparkling as a lazy grin spread across her face.

Scylla rolled her eyes, fingers sliding through her tangled tresses and cradling her head as she propped herself up on one elbow. Her other hand traced patterns across Raelle’s bare chest, fingertips dipping along the crease of her collarbone, shying away from the scar streaking over her heart to tease the outline of her neck before cupping her cheek. 

Raelle tilted her face, kissing the edge of her palm, “Prettiest gal around.”

“You’re never getting any new lines, are you?” the pad of her thumb caressed the splash of pink painting a strong cheekbone. 

“Why, when these ones got you in my bed?” Raelle shifted, pressing their cooling bodies together and brushing a kiss to her chin, “Goddess, I love you.”

Scylla leaned down, catching her lips in a tired embrace. The faint taste of sweet wine and chocolate swirled against her tongue, a reminder of the dessert they’d shared earlier that evening. 

Muscles flexing, Raelle lifted herself up, hand rising to curve around a smooth jaw as she guided Scylla onto her back. Scylla easily let herself fall onto the pillows underneath her, smirking into the touch, “Think you can go again?”

Raelle nipped at her bottom lip, “That a challenge Mrs. Ramshorn-Collar?”

Scylla canted her hips, curling a leg over Raelle’s hip, “You are a bit rusty.”

Raelle trailed kisses across her cheek, biting gently at her earlobe, “Gonna help me work out the kinks?”

Scylla breathed out a giggle, “That’s horrible, Rae.”

“Give me a break, been a while.” Raelle ran the tip of her tongue along the shell of her ear, “I’ve been busy readin’ bedtime stories instead of sweet talkin’ my wife.”

“You wanted a kid, babe.”

“Scam.” Raelle nuzzled the spot behind her ear, “No sex. No booze. Can’t even ‘ppreciate my wife without steppin’ on a lego.”

Those things hurt worse than any windstrike or scourge hit.

Damn Byron for buying them.

“Poor baby.” Scylla hummed, fingers tickling the curve of her spine, “Can’t stare at me all day because you wanted a daughter.”

“‘Bout ready to give her back.” Raelle cupped her breast.

“Not how it works.” Scylla inhaled sharply as teeth grazed the edge of her witch’s mark. “You could have had alcohol before tonight.”

“Solidarity, baby.” 

And Raelle meant it.

The moment she learned Scylla was pregnant, the great alcohol purge commenced, and she refused to drink one drop until Scylla could...which then morphed into them not even being able to contemplate buying a bottle of anything besides formula until now. Until their first date night in who knows how long.

Raelle knew how long.

It was an anniversary, after all. 

If asked, Glory, Tally, Byron, and Abigail might know as well, depending on if their betting pool was still going or not.

Count on her friends to bet on when she’d give in and take a sip.

She was almost certain three of them had sent her a bottle of something at some point.

Lifting her head, Raelle kissed her temple, “Missed you so much.”

Scylla smiled gently, “I missed you, too.”

“Sleepovers with Aunt Tally are the best.”

Scylla laughed, Raelle’s roguish grin pressing against her skin as she joined in.

“I’m sure Aunt Tally agrees.” The redhead had been ecstatic to hear their plans for a date night, the first since their daughter was born, and all but demanded that they leave Henley with her. 

She might not give her back based on the extravagant plans she’d outlined as Henley swung her tiny blue backpack with the glittery necro symbol - another birthday gift that had Scylla smug for weeks - over her shoulders and bounced toward her favorite aunt of the moment.

Hands finding each other, their palms fit together and fingers danced as Raelle tipped over, mouth hovering over her wife’s. “Your mark is shiny as hell, by the way.”

“Why did I marry you?”

“The sex.”

“Hmmm...it’s alright.”

“Alright?” Raelle playfully gasped in offense.

“You are a bit rusty.” 

“I’ll give you rusty.” deft fingers dug into Scylla’s sides, tickling without mercy.

Scylla shrieked, withering desperately, “Raelle, stop!”

“You called me rusty.”

“You’re tipsy, too.” She laughed, wiggling away, “Two drinks and I had to carry you home like it was our honeymoon.”

“Goddess, I forgot how sassy you get after sex,” Raelle grasped her wrist, lightly tugging her back into her arms, “I plan a whole night, and this is what I get.”

Scylla smirked, “Drinks, dessert, and sex?” She let her eyes drift down to pale pink wet lips before finding blue orbs through hooded eyes, “With your wife all night?”

“All night?”

“Until your hangover hits, and you’re grumpy all day.”

Raelle poked her side, eliciting another cackle.

“So mean.” Raelle muttered. She rested her chin on Scylla’s chest.

Scylla ran her hand through sweaty blonde locks, “What are you going to do about it?”

Raelle closed her eyes under the tender ministrations, “Tell everyone I know my wife gets me drunk and has her wicked way with me.”

“Wicked way?”

“Uh huh,” Raelle pillowed her cheek against the swell of her breast, “Plies me with drinks and leads me astray.”

“At least now you can tell them your wife’s mark is shiny.”

“I have a kid. An’ a job. An’...” she huffed, “Scyl, it actually happened.”

“What happened, baby?”

“We’re married with a kid and a house and jobs.” Raelle’s words puffed against her skin, “We’re boring.”

“Boring?”

“Sexy boring. I like it.”

Scylla shook her head, smiling softly.

“Boring’s amazing.” Raelle’s eyelids drooped, “It’s freedom.”

Scylla bit her lip, hearing the lilt in her wife’s voice hinting that she was starting to succumb to sleep. “Yeah.”

“I’m make you breakfast tomorrow.” Raelle yawned, “‘nd make love to you until we have to leave to get Henley.”

“Ambitious.”

“Have you met my wife?”

“I swear to the goddess, Raelle, you are going to stop saying that.”

“But...have you?”

Scylla kissed her head, “Go to sleep.” She reached over and clicked off the bedside lamp, throwing the room into darkness. Doing her best not to move the blonde, she reached out and grasped the sheets, pulling them over their entangled bodies.

“We should get married again.”

“Again? We’re still married, Rae.”

“We can elope. Run away together. We’ll take Hen.”

“Go to the beach?”

“Leave our mortgage and piles of bills at the door. The grocery list will say our goodbyes.”

“We do need to stop at the store on the way to get Henley. The lightbulb in the bathroom is out.”

“I know. It’s on a list. I remember.”

The room grew quiet.

After a few heartbeats, Raelle shifted, tucking her face in the crook of Scylla’s neck, “Love you.”

“I love you, too.” Scylla whispered back.

They both drifted off to sleep, arms holding each other gently as their heartbeats synced and dreams of happy moments swirled in their minds.


	2. Bay Breeze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arms, still warm from rumpled sheets, sleepily nestled around her waist and a puppyish nose nuzzled the crook of her neck lazily, “Morn’.”
> 
> Scylla traced a delicate line along her wife’s forearm, tickling the fine nearly translucent hairs under her palm until she linked their fingers together over her belly, “Good morning.”
> 
> “It’s early,” Lips pressed against her throat, “Come back to bed.”
> 
> “In a minute.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after Baby Buzz.

The air was crisp, the scent of the ocean tickling her nose as a light sheen of salt and sea shimmered on her bare arms. Scylla cupped her hands around the warm mug, the sharp aroma of the ginger tea wafting up on the wisps of steam, and let her eyes rest on the vision a few hundred yards away. The waves crashed gently against the tiny inlet, crystal clear blue smoothing over the dusky divots and leaving an unblemished world in its wake. Back and forth the ocean went, clearing away the scars and aches left behind by an unforgiving world till all that was left was a land reborn. A small patch of heaven untouched by the hands of mortals or demons alike.

Peaceful.

The almost tender lapping of the water lulled her into a quiet sense of bliss. Pure contentment. Her eyelashes dusted against lightly tanned cheeks speckled with early morning pink the color of the sunrise. She let her mind drift off with the waves, thoughts floating along the crests and dips of the rolling water. Her imagination softly slipped farther and farther out, the sea wrapping her in its caring arms and cradling her as she was carried past little fishing boats and playful dolphins.

Off to far away lands.

Lands full of adventure and romance and new things to be discovered every day.

Lands full of stories and magic. Shelters against the storm of life. Where she could be whoever she wanted, do whatever made her happy. Where doubts and fears never tread.

Lands that never existed, but, for a brief second, she wanted more than anything to create. 

Maybe, right there, on that beach, with the sun still low in the sky and flowers twinkling like multicolored stardust along the pathway leading up to her, she had found one of those lands.

A place where nothing but dreams and joy were allowed.

Nothing but peace.

Tranquility.

Happiness.

Arms, still warm from rumpled sheets, sleepily nestled around her waist and a puppyish nose nuzzled the crook of her neck lazily, “Morn’.”

Scylla traced a delicate line along her wife’s forearm, tickling the fine nearly translucent hairs under her palm until she linked their fingers together over her belly, “Good morning.”

“It’s early,” Lips pressed against her throat, “Come back to bed.”

“In a minute.”

A tired huff, “We’re relaxin’. Takin’ it easy. ‘M retired.” Her body melded to Scylla’s, fitting perfectly, like two puzzle pieces finally linked, “Bed rest. Think I read ‘bout bed rest. You should have bed rest.”

Scylla smirked, “You’re best argument to get me back into bed is because I need bed rest and you’re retired?”

“It’s our anniversary.”

She took a sip of her tea, the tepid bitterness cut by the added honey as well as the affectionate lilt in the voice rumbling against her ear, “You slept in during our honeymoon, too.”

“Someone tried to get me hungover during our honeymoon.”

“Thought you didn’t get hungover.”

“ _ Tried _ .” they began to gently sway from side to side.

Scylla let her eyes flutter closed, “Sounds like you need a charge.”

“Never say no to that.” her hold tightened, “After last night, not sure how you can feel your legs.”

Scylla rolled her eyes, “I love you, but my legs are fine.”

“You sure? I ‘member someone not bein’ able to move.”

Scylla leaned back into her, absent mindedly caressing her arm, “That was you, honey.”

A small grunt. “Have you met my wife? Wild as hell.”

A snort, “Oh, was I the one who packed  _ it _ ?” 

“You were the one who  _ bought _ it.”

She hummed, “Didn’t hear you complaining.”

“No ma’am.” She ran the tip of her nose along the length of her neck up to her ear, “I know how to follow orders.”

“Not what I’ve heard.”

She kissed the spot right behind her ear, “What have you been hearing, Mrs. Ramshorn-Collar?”

“That retired Captain Ramshorn-Collar keeps forgetting to wash the dishes.”

“How’m I supposed to wash dishes when there’s a beautiful woman standing right there waiting to be kissed?”

“You don’t wash the dishes because of me?”

“Because you’re too beautiful to not be kissed every chance I can get. Prettiest gal around. Not my fault I can’t say no.”

Scylla chuckled under her breath, “Why did I marry you?”

“Sex. Leg numbing sex.”

“Eh.”

Raelle carefully pulled at her hips, turning her around and letting her hands slip along until they spread fully across Scylla’s stomach, cradling the small bump, “Good enough to knock you up.”

Scylla tipped her head back, glancing at the peach colored sky in exasperated amusement before letting her playful smile drop back down, “It was an ok night.”

“Ok? I remember every moment of that night.” sparkling blue winked at her. She cautiously reached for the mug still in the brunette’s hand and plucked it free, bending over to her side and setting it down on the porch. Then, without warning, she swooped up, hooking an arm underneath Scylla’s knees and sweeping her into her arms, holding her against her chest, “There was nothing  _ ok  _ about it. Can give a repeat performance, if you want.”

Scylla shook her head, curling her arms around her girl’s neck, “You’re not nervous enough.”

“Nervous? I wasn’t nervous.”

The tick of her eyebrow said it all.

“I wasn’t.”

“Of course not. It’s entirely normal for you to almost give yourself a concussion by tripping into the door or memorizing and repeating the Work like you were studying for a school exam.” She smirked, “Actually, that does sound like you. Didn’t that happen before our wedding?”

“You’re mean.”

She pecked her lips, “At least I didn’t bring up how you proposed to me at our reception.”

“You said yes.”

“Didn’t want to break your heart in front of so many people.”

Without warning, Raelle spun in a tight circle, causing Scylla to gasp with laughter, “I give you leg numbing sex, and this is what I get?”

“Imagine what you’d get if you washed the dishes without being told five times.”

“Not my fault I get distracted by the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Scylla kissed her again before tapping the back of her shoulder. Sensing the message, Raelle gently set her back on her feet. As her hands started to slide away, her fingers hesitated, and she bit her lip.

Scylla ducked her head, finding a distracted gaze, “What is it?”

Raelle didn’t answer, and Scylla gave her time to collect her thoughts, breathing in the rejuvenating ocean air, letting it fill her lungs with sweetness as she waited.

Raelle grinned finally, a tiny little pirate like turn of her lips, “I bet she has your eyes.”

Scylla bit her lip, recognizing the little game, “I bet she has your smile.”

“Your intelligence.”

“Your loyalty.”

Raelle licked her lips, “She’s going to be a fixer.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Rae.”

Raelle breathed in deeply, exhaling slowly.

“What?” Scylla asked.

Raelle shook her head in disbelief, her voice tinged with awe. “We’re having a baby.”

“Raelle. Honey, do we need to talk about how that time we said some chants during sex wasn’t just for fun?”

Raelle’s mouth twitched with humor, “It was a little fun.”

“The sex was fun. It’s why I keep you around.”

Raelle glanced down for a second before lifting her head, eyebrows drawing together, “I get to be a mom with you.” She shrugged, “I get to have a family with you. I get to go to the beach with you whenever we want. I get to wake up to you sipping your tea.” She paused for a moment, “I’m going to get to see you with  _ our daughter. _ ”

Scylla felt the wonder in her own soul, “Yeah.” She couldn’t help but lean in, pressing her lips to her partner’s with a sureness that only came from years and years of doing so, a sureness that had been between them since the moment they met. She pulled back, but dove in quickly for another, then another, quick affectionate pecks, each one leaving her wanting one more. Raelle met each kiss, taking and giving fondly.

“I’mma make you breakfast,” Raelle mumbled between kisses, her smile reflecting in Scylla’s eyes.

“Do we have any clean dishes?” Scylla shot back, brushing her lips against a cheek, little butterfly touches blazing a path to her ear.

“Live a little.” Raelle’s hands dipped under Scylla’s shirt, seeking out the new swell that sent a bolt of giddy nerves with tingling delight every time she saw or felt it. 

“I did. I ended up with a ring on my finger and you in my bed.”

“Best damn life I can think of.”

Scylla hummed, “What are you going to make for breakfast?”

“Gotta start working on my pancake skills. Kids like pancakes, right?”

Scylla nodded, “Yes, kids like pancakes.”

“With chocolate chips.”

“I hope you plan on doing some push ups this morning if you’re making chocolate chip pancakes.”

“Retired, and you still got me doing push ups.”

The sound of the waves once again tickled her senses, and Scylla stepped away, grasping her wife’s hand and giving a tender tug, “Follow me.”

Raelle squinted at her, “I’m all gross.”

Scylla began to lead her down the little staircase and along the path, “No you’re not. Live a little.”

“Living a little got that ring on your finger and you  _ not _ in my bed right now.”

Scylla didn’t reply, just continued on, guiding her until their bare feet met damp sand.

“Scylla, what are we doing?” Raelle squished the sand between her toes, their footprints the only marks along the shoreline.

Scylla rocked into her, mouth hovering over the blonde’s, “Let’s swim in the ocean.”

“Right now?”

Scylla nodded, a mischievous glint teasing the curve of her mouth.

Raelle blinked at her, focus dropping to the mouth so close to her own. She closed the distance between them, eyes darkening. Her voice lowered to a desre laden rumble, “You sure?”

Scylla felt a tug low in her belly, tiny flames igniting and licking at her veins. Before she could respond, Raelle was off running, sprinting into the water, sand kicking up behind her.

With a laugh, Scylla gave chase, giggling as Raelle cursed loudly when she smashed into the cold water.

“Cold, cold, cold, cold,” Raelle grumbled, “Goddess, it’s cold. It’s damn cold, Scylla.” 

Scylla waded over to her, looping her arms around strong shoulders, “I know a way to warm you up.”

Raelle’s blue orbs darkened, “Oh yeah?”

Scylla nodded, “Yeah.”

Her smirk turned mischievous.

Next thing Raelle knew, she was underwater, dunked beneath the waves without remorse. She sputtered, water burning her nose and dripping down her face as she flailed up, “What the hell?”

Scylla cackled, “Best way to get used to the temperature, babe. Dive right in.”

Raelle wiped at her eyes, soaked white shirt nothing more than a see through scrap of material clinging to her chest and upper arms. With a growl, she jumped at Scylla, the brunette awkwardly dancing away, “Come on, Scyl. Gotta dive right in.”

“Raelle! No!” she shrieked as the blonde snagged the edge of her shirt. With a quick pull, Scylla spun into her arms, the cold water seeping into her own skin. She rested her forearms along Raelle’s shoulders, leaping up and wrapping her legs around her waist.

They stood there, the water glittering around them, two planets, the moon and the sun, meeting between the stars.

Scylla touched her forehead to Raelle’s “I love you.”

“Love you, too.” Raelle whispered back.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Baby needs to learn to swim.”

“Raelle.”

With a wink and a glowing beam, Raelle bent her knees and fell backwards, taking them both under the waves. 


	3. Sip and Stroll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She sat up a bit, arm dropping from the window, and head angling to see past the blonde to the view just beyond her. That’s when she realized where they were, “Raelle?” Her head swiveled around. Expertly cut and maintained grass, looming lakes off in the distance, and tangible hum of magic vibrating against her skin, tickling all of her senses and teasing her body, whispering with power.
> 
> Raelle didn’t respond. Instead, she let go of Scylla’s hand, reaching for the chain looped around her own neck.
> 
> Scylla frowned harder.
> 
> Why were they approaching the gates of Fort Salem?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take place after End of a Beginning.

Scylla leaned her elbow against the open window pane, the late night breeze ruffling her wavy hair as she rested her head in her hand. The radio crackled quietly, offering a soft sweet tune to lull her into a peaceful place of tranquility as the trees and moonlight mixed together into a silvery kaleidoscope of green and brown while the car rolled down the darkened road. The brilliant yellow headlights spotted random shrubs and wildlife, a deer peeking out from behind a tangle of flowers followed by a scampering squirrel darting up a tree. Closing her eyes, she breathed in the cool air, letting it wash over her slightly flushed face and caress her features like a lover’s gentle touch, soothing away the lingering warmth from the bar and drinks. Mouth curving with a contented smile, she let her eyelashes flutter open and lazily dipped her head around to glance at the driver.

Raelle smoothly guided the car along the familiar road, fingers tapping along to the beat of the song as she hummed quietly to herself. Sensing her girlfriend’s stare, Raelle peeked over at her. Eyes the color of a bright spring sky glistened with affection. She shifted her hand off the wheel, replacing it with her left as her right casually dropped onto the console between them, palm flipped up. She wiggled her fingers invitingly, and Scylla chuckled to herself as she grasped it, their fingers instantly lacing together.

It had been a good night. A long week for both of them culminated in a sudden agreement that they needed to go out and let go of all the stress that had been building up throughout the days. A nice dinner at their favorite local diner, a few good drinks, and Scylla could feel the worries drift away, if only for an evening. 

She looked the blonde up and down, smirk growing. Raelle was stunning. Simple navy blue button up shirt, sleeves rolled up messily, in a way that made Scylla want to reach over and straighten them, to reveal lean forearms, and a nice pair of dark blue jeans that all but begged for Scylla to slip her hand in the back pocket of while they strolled down the sidewalk back to their car after the relaxing meal. She still looked breathtaking to the brunette. 

“You’re beautiful.” Scylla broke the silence, mesmerized by the way the moonlight caught in the blonde braids intricately woven earlier that morning before Raelle rushed off to base, already late for a meeting with her newest aide.

Raelle grinned at her, “Tryin’ to steal my lines, Ramshorn?”

“They seem to work. Thought I’d give it a try.”

“Seducing me with my own work.”

“You know how I like studying other’s Work.”

Raelle winked at her, “I’d be happy to give you some tips.”

“Just some tips? I was hoping for an entire lesson.”

“Could be arranged.” she subtly turned the wheel, leading the car off the main road, “Might come with a price, though. Can’t be giving away all my secrets for free.”

“What are you asking for?”

The car rumbled along, the trees giving way to well manicured lawns and imposing landscaping. 

Raelle’s teasing demeanor dropped, her teeth snagging her bottom lip as her grip on Scylla’s hand tightened imperceptibly.

Noticing the abrupt change in the younger witch, Scylla frowned. 

What happened?

She sat up a bit, arm dropping from the window, and head angling to see past the blonde to the view just beyond her. That’s when she realized where they were, “Raelle?” Her head swiveled around. Expertly cut and maintained grass, looming lakes off in the distance, and tangible hum of magic vibrating against her skin, tickling all of her senses and teasing her body, whispering with power.

Raelle didn’t respond. Instead, she let go of Scylla’s hand, reaching for the chain looped around her own neck.

Scylla frowned harder.

Why were they approaching the gates of Fort Salem?

Had Raelle forgotten something in her office and needed to go back?

Why hadn’t she mentioned it?

Why couldn’t it wait?

What would be important enough to return this late? After the night they’d had?

Why was she bringing Scylla back to the one place the brunette avoided at all costs? That Raelle knew she hated returning to?

Biting the inside of her cheek, Scylla willed her lungs to keep breathing normally.

To some, the feel of Fort Salem was hypnotizing. Alluring. Addicting.

To Scylla, it was gut-wrenching. 

The car slowed, coming to a stop at the guardhouse. A young witch, fresh out of basic, stepped out, bleary eyed and doing her best to stand at attention, “ID, please.”

Raelle took off her medal, handing it through the open window to the girl. The witch stepped back into the small building, returning a few moments later, “Anything I can help you with, Captain?”

Raelle shook her head, taking her medal back and quickly sliding it over her head, the medallion hanging low over her chest, “No, Private.”

“Have a good night, ma’am.” The soldier stepped back, motioning them along as the gates opened.

“Raelle, what’s going on?” Scylla spoke lowly, teeth gritted together. 

She rarely returned to Fort Salem. Had stepped foot only a handful of times on the hallowed ground since she left that fateful day, Anacostia’s visage overtaking her own features with the click of a flame, masking from view the scared heartbroken woman underneath.The woman who strove, fought, against what these old unchanged buildings and vast array of training courses represented. Battled for the choice so many never got. For the chance to never have to roam these halls and lands. To never have to pick up a scourge or deflect a windstrike. To never experience hell.

Back when she was younger and had only memories to hold on to, to reminder herself of what was good.

When she didn’t know Raelle was on her way to the desert.

To her own form of hell.

Raelle grabbed her hand again, nerves evident though she didn’t want to show them, “Trust me?”

Trust her?

“Of course.” Scylla gulped, eyes darting out the window. She always trusted Raelle.

It was other people she didn’t trust.

She had gotten better over time, even lost most of her hatred for this place and the uniform her girlfriend changed into every morning, but, she still harbored a small bit of wariness for the world that nearly killed her lover. A world that had caused both of them so much pain and suffering. A world that still clung to Raelle.

Most of the time she was fine. Accepted that her girlfriend was still in the military. That most of their friends were.

Didn’t mean there weren’t some nights she woke up in a cold sweat from a nightmare about death and loss.

That she didn’t hold Raelle as the blonde experienced the same.

Raelle maneuvered the car carefully along the paved path, bypassing training grounds and barracks full of sleeping soldiers. A few moments later, she pulled over, putting the car in park and turning off the ignition.

Licking her lips, she turned her head toward Scylla but didn’t meet her eyes, “Can we go for a walk?”

A walk. 

Late at night.

At Fort Salem.

And Raelle was not looking at her.

Something was off.

“Raelle,”

“Please?”

A reluctant sigh, “Yes. Ok.”

“Ok.” Raelle quickly opened her door and hopped out. As she rushed around to open Scylla’s door, the brunette reached over, plucking the forgotten keys out of the ignition and put them in her pocket.

The passenger door swung open, and a hand appeared, beckoning Scylla to climb out of safety and into the unknown.

Beckoning her back to a place that held so many emotions for her. So many memories.

Not all good.

Most not good.

The only good ones involving the woman urging her forward.

She gently placed her hand in Raelle’s and allowed her to help her out.

Raelle flashed her a grin, easing the door shut and tugging her along the road.

Scylla looked around, a wave of nostalgia slamming into her.

For a moment, it was as if she were a teenager again, taking a late night stroll around campus with her girlfriend, ducking from patrols and stealing kisses under the stars. Caught up in love and lust and the need to forget everything except the girl in her arms and the taste of her lips.

Forget they were doomed.

That Scylla was lying and Raelle’s future involved the front lines of an unending war.

Biting back the sense of anger and fear that still clawed at her mind, would always nip like a cruel demon at her soul, whenever she thought of Raelle and her service, her enslavement, when she had no choice and was sent to die, Scylla took a deep breath, forcing her shoulders to relax. Ordered herself to not think about funerals and devastation and wondering if Raelle could still be alive out there. She focused on the air in her lungs, the scent of flowers and the soil beneath their boots filling her senses. Pleasant and soothing. The grass was slightly wet, painting their shoes and the cuffs of their jeans with dark splotches.They skipped back onto the dry pavement.

Raelle caressed the backs of her knuckles with her thumb, and Scylla was unsure if it was for her or Raelle’s benefit. Despite the grin, Raelle was still tense. Taut.

Worried.

“Raelle, why are we here?”

A sigh slipped out of Raelle as she came to a halt. She dropped Scylla’s hand and began to rub her own together, thumb digging into her left palm. She bounced a bit on the balls of her feet, energy seeping out of her and causing Scylla to become tense.

Something was about to happen. 

Oh goddess, was she being deployed?

“Raelle, you need to say something.”

“Yes, right. Of course.” Raelle rocking on her heels, “So, you asked me what it would cost you back in the car and it’s sort of funny you asked that because it’s something I’ve been thinking about, not that you owe me anything because you don’t, you never owe me anything, because I love you. And, when you love someone, you don’t owe them anything for being in love with them or they don’t owe you anything...something like that. Anyways, I love you. I’ve always loved you. You’re beautiful and smart and powerful, and I am always going to want you. You’re sexy as hell, and you make me happy.”

Scylla’s eyes widened at the ramble, “Raelle?” she asked as the blonde took a breath, “Are you drunk?”

How strong were her drinks at dinner?

She seemed fine on the drive.

Had she sipped something else when Scylla wasn’t looking?

Raelle’s eyes widened, “What? No!”

Scylla exhaled, “Raelle.”

“Just,” Raelle waved her hands, “Wait. Wait, let me say this.” She patted at her pockets, “Damn it. I dropped…” she fell to a crouch, twisting away from Scylla.

Pursing her lips, Scylla glanced around.

Leave it to Raelle to get drunk and take her on a midnight stroll around Fort Salem instead of going back to their apartment and their bed.

Wait.

Were they…

They were standing outside her old barracks.

Why were they there?

Glancing up, she could see the window that had been hers.

The window Raelle tried to break when she tossed rocks at it so long ago.

What was going on?

Turning back to her girlfriend, Scylla stopped breathing.

Raelle was on one knee.

A ring in her hand.

Goddess.

Scylla felt the world stop turning.

Time came to a standstill.

Nothing else existed except for the vision in front of her.

The ring glinted in the moonlight, a small emerald winking like the rolling hills on a summer morning. Like a patch of land, a lighthouse, in the middle of the sea.

Raelle fought to keep her voice steady, “I love you. I sort of proposed to you once here, and I told you I’d get you a better ring. It just took me this long to do it.” She licked her lips, “I know your favorite ice cream flavor, and I know what it feels like to wake up in your arms every morning. I know what it’s like to kiss you hello, and that you are the biggest nerd. That you’re weird and sexy and it’s totally a thing for me. You’re a thing for me. You’re everything to me. And...I know you found me. You found me when I first got here and had that stupid hot garbage plan to die. And, you found me when I thought I did die. You always find me, Scyl. Even when I don’t know I’m lost. I can’t...think of any other way to spend my life than being by your side. Than being found.” She swallowed, a lump in her throat, “And, I know it’s not normal to have forever, but I’m asking for it. So, I’m willing to give you everything. Anything you want. Every single part of me. Every day. From now till...eternity. I''ll make you tea when you have a headache and help you grow that mushroom garden thing you want and never let you forget how damn gorgeous you are. That you don't have to run, but if you do, I'm running with you. Whatever you want to do, whoever you want to be, I'm in. A hundred percent. If you’ll marry me, and let me always be with you, I...I promise to always be here. To be with you. To...to...love you. I’ll always love you. No matter what. I’d even say till death do us part, but...Fixer and Necro...I think we can figure that one out.” 

Scylla stared at her. 

At the emerald.

At earnest honest blue eyes.

“Scyl? Um…” Raelle gulped, hand starting to shake. She wrapped her other hand around her wrist, holding it steady, “if...if…”

“You’re not drunk.” Scylla breathed out, unable to not look at the ring.

“No, I...there might have been a few sips from a flask but that was for courage because this is actually really scary, and I wasn’t sure I was going to even do this but Tally and Byron….”

“Yes.”

...said I should and Abigail thinks I’m dumb for waiting this long and...what?” Raelle stuttered to a stop as the word registered.

Scylla let out a tearful laugh, “Yes.”

“Yes?”

Scylla nodded.

“Oh...oh. Yeah? Really?” Raelle leapt to her feet.

“Yes,” Scylla blinked at the happy sting in her eye, “of course I’ll marry you.”

Raelle’s smile covered her face as she bounded forward, scooping Scylla into her arms and spinning her around and around as they both laughed and squealed.

“Oh my goddess, I’m getting married. We’re getting married. I’m marrying you.” Raelle blurted out.

Scylla wiped at her eyes, “Still haven’t put a ring on it.”

“Damn it.” Raelle fumbled with the ring, nearly dropping it into the dewey grass nearby. She tenderly took Scylla’s hand, eyes double checking before carefully sliding it onto her finger. She lifted it to her lips, pressing a loving kiss there.

“I can’t believe you proposed to me at my old dorm.”

“At least I didn’t break a window this time.”

Scylla took her face in her palms, kissing the words from her lips and tasting the hints of bourbon and love coating a playful tongue as hers snuck inside a wanting mouth. Raelle kissed her back hungrily, every ounce of happiness in the world reflected in the slant of her lips and crease of her jaw.

Scorching heat raced through Scylla’s veins, tempered by the cozy warmth kindling in her chest. She pressed closer against Raelle, feeling everything and nothing and, goddess, they were getting married.

She was going to marry Raelle.

They broke apart slowly, foreheads coming together. Scylla smiled blissfully, unable to contain the stretch of her cheeks and the escaping relieved puff of air.

Raelle began to sway slightly, fingers tracing up the length of Scylla’s arm before encircling her wrist and gently moving it, taking the palm in her own. An easy hum sung deep in Raelle’s chest, the melody the same as what played on the radio earlier that night.

“I’d very much like to dance with you.”

Scylla almost cried.

“You’re the best thing I’ve ever had.” Raelle whispered as they rocked back and forth, “Prettiest gal in the world.” she kissed the tip of her nose, “You make me ok, Scyl.”

“I love you.” Scylla choked out, throat knotted up with so much happiness she didn’t know how to handle it.

“Hope so. Not sure I can return that thing.” she tapped a finger against the band of the ring.

“Good. You’re stuck with me now, Collar.” she kissed her.

“Forever, right? No five year deal here.”

“I don’t know. Might have to test you out, see if I still want all this after five years.”

“We need to have sex for you to be this sassy.”

Scylla pressed their hips together, “You’re the one who brought me here instead of our bed. Missing the, what is it called, _sprint of shame_?”

“So mean.” Raelle swallowed whatever words Scylla was going to say, breathing them in as she sucked on her bottom lip. She purred against winsome lips, “Collar-Ramshorn? Raelle Ramshorn. Scylla Collar.”

Scylla kissed her cheek, wrapping her lips around her earlobe and biting, “Take me home, Rae.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

* * *

If the following day the entire Necro student body was gossiping about how Maria glanced out her window and was able to wake up the entire third floor in time to watch the most adorable proposal ever, and they were pretty sure it was Cpt. Collar from the Fixer Unit...Raelle didn't find out until she walked by a giggling gaggle of second years a few days later who all but swooned at her and offered congratulations.

She made a point to not tell Scylla.

Abigail found out and about pulled a muscle she laughed so hard.


	4. Midnight Musings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her hand came up empty.
> 
> Scylla’s brow furrowed with confusion.
> 
> Raelle was not a morning person.
> 
> And, it was early. Long before the sun would rise.
> 
> She had been there when they went to bed, drawing Scylla to her as they flicked off the lights, molding to her back and letting her hand slip under the rumpled t-shirt Scylla had thrown on while Raelle brushed her teeth.
> 
> Cracking her eyes open, it was confirmed. Raelle wasn’t there. 
> 
> Her wife was missing.

Scylla nuzzled into the pillow, feeling the pull of consciousness tug at her, luring her away from the peaceful world of dreams. She didn’t want to wake up, her exhausted body begging for another few minutes, few seconds, to rest. To recover from a long day. A long week, even. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a perfect night’s sleep. One where she woke up well rested and ready to face whatever the day brought.

Of course, the reason for the past sleepless months was something she would gladly give up an entire life of peaceful sleeps for.

Snuggling further under the blankets surreptitiously draped over her shoulders sometime during the night, her hand crept out, searching for her wife. She wanted to breathe her in, tuck her nose in the crook of her collarbone and let the blonde’s little hums and tender touch lull her back to sleep.

Her hand came up empty.

Scylla’s brow furrowed with confusion.

Raelle was not a morning person.

And, it was early. Long before the sun would rise.

She had been there when they went to bed, drawing Scylla to her as they flicked off the lights, molding to her back and letting her hand slip under the rumpled t-shirt Scylla had thrown on while Raelle brushed her teeth.

Cracking her eyes open, it was confirmed. Raelle wasn’t there. 

Her wife was missing.

Rolling onto her back, Scylla wiped at her eyes, mind sluggish and still halfway caught up in whatever dream was disappearing from her memory. She quieted her breathing and tried to listen.

A muted creak came from downstairs. 

Exhaling, the older witch slowly pushed back the blankets and crawled out of bed. The thin cotton of her pajama pants tickled her knees, and she rolled her shoulders as her bare feet touched the weathered floor. Her hand lethargically ran through tousled locks while she padded out of the bedroom and down the hall. She peeked in the second bedroom, frowning when she found it empty as well. 

Make that two missing people.

She carefully took the stairs down to the first floor, unconsciously skipping over the squeaky step both Raelle and Edwin had promised at different points to take a look at. Hushing a yawn with a palm, she followed soft mutterings and rhythmic footsteps toward the kitchen.

Scylla stopped when she reached the entryway to the small room.

All she could do was stare.

And try to not let the sudden burst of warmth in her chest overflow. 

It already had, though. Seeping into her veins and coursing through her entire body, tingling her fingertips and causing her chest to ache in the most wholesome of ways.

Raelle was pacing back and forth.

A tiny bundle in her arms.

“I know midnight talks are you and your mom’s thing.” Raelle whispered, face pressed close to the baby cradled in her arms, wrapped up in a mini purple blanket with golden stars and pentagrams woven throughout, “But, she’s had a really busy week, and we’re gonna let her sleep.” 

The duo walked over toward the window, faded moonlight trickling in through the slightly smudged glass. Henley gurgled and grumbled. An impossibly small fist appeared, cute enough to elicit a heartfelt grin, and waved at Raelle, nearly bopping her nose. Raelle ducked out of the way at the last second, “I know it’s your mom’s night and you’d rather be with her. Can’t blame you. I would, too.” She gently began to sway, “Don’t tell her I did this. She’ll try to take one of mine.” She smiled so tenderly down at the little girl, Scylla felt her heart stop, “You and your mom are the best thing that ever happened to me. I ever tell you that? I’d never give either of you up for anything.” 

Raelle grasped the elfin fist and held it tenderly. It was swallowed up in her palm, and she gave it a little shake “We weren’t always sure we’d get to have you.” Her smile twitched, “Don’t tell your mom, but I was scared to death when we found out we were having you. I wanted you so much...and I knew your mom would be the best mom in the whole world. You’re lucky, Hen. We both are. But, I was so scared I’d do something to hurt you. That I’d turn out like my mama. That something would happen and I couldn’t be with you and your mom.” She swallowed thickly, “I sometimes wonder if this is all a dream. Heaven or something. That I died when I was a kid. I...um...my first mission when I was in the army didn’t go well.” She huffed sardonically, “Not a good bedtime story. But, uh, I went away for a while. Your mom found me. But, I look at you and her and our life together. It’s everything I ever wanted. Too good to be true.Being married? Getting to have a kid with the woman I love? With Scylla? Getting to have you? It’s incredible, Hen. I can’t tell you how much.”

Raelle leaned her back against the counter, staring down at the little girl, impossibly blue eyes slowly disappearing behind little eyelashes.

“I don’t ever want to be away from you. I think your mom worries sometimes about if I’m upset she wanted me to leave the army. I’m not. Because, I get to have you two. I almost lost her once over that. I told her I would leave, and I didn’t. Henley, don’t ever lie to the people you love. Trust me. Your mom’d tell you the same thing. Whenever we lie...it doesn’t go well. But, uh, I didn’t leave the army, and I thought she was going to leave me. I don’t know what I’d do if she did. I do everything because of her...and you.” She laughed quietly, “I even helped her a bit with that mushroom garden you seem to really like. Or, I tried. She kicked me out. I’m a fixer, but I cannot grow anything like that. You should have seen your mom’s face when I called one of ‘em a plant. You get your sass from her.”

The room grew quiet, Raelle seeming to mull over her words.

She took a breath, “I’m not always going to be the best to you, Henley. I hate it. Because, I want to. I want to give you everything you’ll ever need. The moment they placed you in my arms, I knew I’d do anything to make you happy. But, I mess up. A lot. You can ask anyone. Especially your Aunt Abigail or Aunt Anacostia. Maybe don’t do that. I don’t want to lose all of my cool points with you.” She shifted the baby, easing her fully to one arm and carefully lifting the other to delicately trace a cherub cheek, “You will always have your mom, though, and she’s the best.” She wet her lips, taking a second before continuing, “You’re my kid, Henley. I love you. You’re always going to be my kid. Mine and Scylla’s. You look just like her. You got the good genes there. I know you’d be an incredible fixer. You’ll be incredible no matter what you do. Even necro. But, I hope you don’t end up like me. Don’t...don’t get lost. We’ll find you, if you do, but I know what it’s like to not want to be around anymore. To...to think there’s nothing left to be here for. That you don’t have a choice. To think someone might not want you. I don’t want you to ever wonder if you’re loved, because you are. I don’t want you to have to see the things I’ve seen.” Her chin shook as she blinked. She pressed her lips to a tuft of dark brown hair, “I’m not going to tell you about when I was in the army. Most of the stories aren’t happy. You don’t need to hear about that stuff. I promised I would always support you, no matter what you choose to do or who you end up being, because you do have a choice, you’ll always be able to choose, but...goddess, Henley, you can be so many things, do so much...just...please don’t join the army.” She closed her eyes, “I don’t want them taking you, too.” Her voice dropped so low Scylla couldn’t hear her, “Don’t make your mom lose anyone else.”

Scylla was at her wife’s side before she even registered her feet were moving. She gingerly touched Raelle’s elbow, doing her best not to startle her or the baby. Raelle sniffed, subtly trying to rub her shoulder against her eyes as she looked over at her, “Hey.”

“Hi,” Scylla stroked her arm, curling against her side.

“Did I wake you?”

Scylla silently shook her head, “Just missed you.”

Raelle nodded, “Could tell I was stealing your night, huh?”

“You’re not very subtle.” Scylla gently rubbed the pad of her thumb beneath Raelle’s eye, swiping away a hint of moisture she wouldn’t call Raelle out on. “Besides, I know you’re trying to get our daughter to be a fixer. Late night rendezvouses won’t do it.”

“She’s going to be one.” Raelle pressed a quick kiss to the inside of Scylla’s wrist before it turned, hand cupping Raelle’s face, “Accept it, Necro. We’re a fixer family.”

“She looks like a necro, to me.”

“Funny.” Raelle rolled her eyes, but she beamed at her, “Pretty as her mom.”

“Yet, already has a knack for trouble, like her mama.” Scylla guided her in for a kiss. It was familiar, warm, like coming home after a long journey. Like being wrapped in a blanket with a nice mug of hot tea while the snow fell outside.

“I do love trouble.” Raelle murmured as Scylla slowly broke away.

Scylla shook her head ruefully before turning her attention to her daughter. She smoothed back an unruly strand of hair from her little face, “You’re a good parent, Raelle. A good mom.”

“Think that’s my line for you,” Raelle countered.

Scylla glanced up at her, tilting her head, “You can talk to me about being scared.”

Raelle gulped, avoiding her knowing encouraging eyes, “How much did you hear?”

Scylla brushed her mouth against her temple, “Enough to know you’re already a great mama. That having a family with you is one of the best decisions I ever made.”

“Sweet talkin’ me in front of the kid.” Raelle’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink, “Save it for the bedroom, Ramshorn.”

“Ramshorn-Collar.”

Raelle shot her a teasing smirk, “Careful, though. Have you met my wife?”

“It’s too early for that, Rae.” A few hours and at least one large mug of tea early. 

“Never too early to talk about you.” Henley gave a dainty grumble, earning her a small bounce in her mother’s arms. 

“Come back to bed,” Scylla caressed her elbow, tone entreating.

Raelle peered at her, studying the curve of her mouth and the elegance of her brow before she gave a small nod. Scylla grasped her elbow, sliding her arm around her back as they meandered slowly toward the stairs and up to the bedrooms, stopping at Henley’s to lovingly put her back in her crib, both parents pulling the small blankets up and around her before retiring to their own room.

Scylla led Raelle to the bed, holding her hand during the short walk. As Raelle sat on the edge, scrubbing at her tired face, Scylla turned off the lights. She walked over, absentmindedly flipping on the table side lamp, letting the room be bathed in the shadowy golden glow of the fluorescent light. Raelle looked up when a leg lifted over her own, the sight of the brunette settling into her lap making her perk up. She grabbed her hips, holding her as Scylla looped lithe arms around her neck.

Their noses touched.

Blue eyes met blue.

“I love you.” Scylla spoke softly.

“I love you.” Raelle smiled and playfully rubbed her nose against Scylla’s.

“Show me.” she breathed, words swirling against a pliant mouth

“Thought you were tired.” her fingers flexed.

“Then, give me a boost.”

A lazy smirk slowly ghosted across her lips, “Yes, ma’am.”

Angling her head ever so slightly, Raelle kissed her, the well known fire that neither would ever get tired of sparking to life as she gently bit down on her wife's bottom lip. Hands tightened, spanning Scylla’s waist and kneading lightly. Raelle held her steady and easily lifted her hips, turning them over in one smooth motion. Scylla fell back on the bed, pulling Raelle closer, a hand sneaking up to cradle the back of her head, fingers digging into untamed golden hair.

Goddess, she missed this.

Raelle took her time, unhurried, relishing the chance to kiss her wife. To feel her, be with her. Nibble and savor the sweetest most alluring taste in the world.

Calloused hands slid down, hooking under Scylla’s thighs and urging her further up the bed. 

Scylla reached for the hem of Raelle’s shirt, rolling the white fabric in her grasp, ready to lift it up and away, but fingers curled around her wrist, stopping her. 

“Lay back.” Raelle nipped at her lips before kissing a path to her ear, “Let me take care of my wife.”

Scylla gasped as fingertips tickled her side, slipping under her shirt to skim across her belly.

“Prettiest gal around.” Raelle murmured, kissing the shell of her ear before taking her earlobe in her mouth, sucking lightly.

Scylla let her eyes slide closed, allowing herself to get lost in the feel of the woman she loved, the feel of Raelle being so close, wanting her, needing her, even after so many years. Felt the way her body reacted, would always react, to her lover’s voice, her hands, her mouth.

A sharp cry echoed throughout the house.

Both stilled.

Silence.

Neither dared move.

“Maybe if we…” Raelle whispered.

Another cry.

Raelle sighed loudly, head falling onto Scylla’s shoulder, “She just went back to sleep.”

Scylla scratched the back of her head, “I know.”

Damn it.

“We should have a few hours at least.” Raelle groused.

They should, but sometimes Henley didn’t do what her parents expected her to.

“I’ll get her.” Scylla rubbed up and down her spine.

“No, I got it.” Raelle clambered to her feet, a pout almost forming as she glanced down at the woman spread out on their bed.

“You sure? I can…”

“No,” Raelle cut her off with a gesture, “no you...just...relax.”

Scylla quirked an eyebrow.

Relax. Sure.

Raelle rolled her eyes at herself, shrugging before turning and meandering out of the bedroom.

Scylla tossed an arm over her eyes, breathing out as her body wordlessly begged for the touch that had been there only moments before, the heat between her legs not quite caught up with her mind.

She bit her lip, taking deep even breaths.

It wasn’t the first time it’d happened. Wouldn’t be the last.

She loved her daughter. Loved Henley in a way she never thought she could love someone. 

But, goddess, she missed uninterrupted sex.

A small squeak had her looking up at the bedroom door.

Raelle swooped in, rocking a perturbed looking Henley.

“Your Aunt Anacostia would be so proud of your ability to stop me from being with your mom.” Raelle cooed at the child, “Yes, she would.”

Scylla rolled her eyes but couldn't help but chuckle, “If only she knew her attempts when you were in basic could have been accomplished by a baby.”

Scylla couldn’t even imagine her younger self’s reaction to the thought of having a child, let alone one with the girl who was assigned as her mark.

Her reaction would not be what it was now, after years of marriage and even more years figuring out life with the younger witch.

Raelle cautiously sat beside Scylla, the brunette scooting over to the edge of the bed. 

Scylla smiled down at their daughter, the baby red faced and frowning, “Hi, Henley. Are you not having a good night, honey?”

The baby blinked, the frown disappearing at her mom’s voice.

Raelle snorted, “I see how it is. I can’t even try to steal _one_ of your mom’s nights. You just want your mom.”

Scylla rubbed her back, “Let me take her.”

Raelle handed her over, “I’ll start the tea.”

“Thanks, Rae.”

Raelle kissed her cheek then stood up, “She gets that demanding side from you.”

“We know what we want.” Scylla shrugged. “You know she’ll be crawling after you all day tomorrow.”

Which, after the first time, had resulted in Raelle walking around with her head down to make sure she didn’t trip over her mini shadow.

Didn’t mean she didn’t accidentally trip into a door once. Or twice.

“Chamomile?”

“Please.” 

“I’ll bring it up when it’s done.”

“Thanks.”

Raelle nodded, leaving the room.

With a sigh, Scylla eased onto her side of the bed, cradling the baby against her chest and humming softly. 

By the time Raelle returned with the steaming mug, Henley was fast asleep, hand curled into her mother’s shirt and head nestled right above her heart. Scylla’s head was back against the headrest, deep even breaths synchronized with her daughter’s.


	5. Sandwiches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a pleasant day. The late morning sun was warm and welcoming, casting its brilliant glow across the land and slipping its whimsical golden streaks through the open window along with the sweet scent of freshly cut grass and the faint breeze full of calm wisps of cloudless sky.
> 
> A perfect day for an outing to the park. 
> 
> The well cared for and manicured green hills begged to be rolled down with laughter and teasing. Trees full of chirping birds that would watch the display would silently offer to stand back as a kite soared high overhead, promising to not let the strings get tangled in their long branches. Flowers, primped and preened, were ready to be picked and turned into beautiful impromptu bouquets. 
> 
> Hardly anything could make this day less than ideal.
> 
> Anything except sandwiches.

It was a pleasant day. The late morning sun was warm and welcoming, casting its brilliant glow across the land and slipping its whimsical golden streaks through the open window along with the sweet scent of freshly cut grass and the faint breeze full of calm wisps of cloudless sky.

A perfect day for an outing to the park. 

The well cared for and manicured green hills begged to be rolled down with laughter and teasing. Trees full of chirping birds that would watch the display would silently offer to stand back as a kite soared high overhead, promising to not let the strings get tangled in their long branches. Flowers, primped and preened, were ready to be picked and turned into beautiful impromptu bouquets. 

Hardly anything could make this day less than ideal.

Anything except sandwiches.

Or, rather, one sandwich.

“You’re thinking too hard, Rae. Just cut it.”

Raelle huffed, hand hovering over the sandwich, blade twisting back and forth as she tried to calculate the appropriate angle to take. A pile of crusts sat off to the side in a heap, brownish gold peanut butter and purplish jelly oozing out onto the cutting board from beneath the light brown slices of bread smooshed together. The jars, still open, lids absentmindedly tossed behind them, watched the witch with an air of judgment.

“But...is it this way,” Raelle tilted the knife so it sliced straight up and down, a dot of jelly stickily smeared along the side of her hand, “or this way?” She flipped her wrist, the blade now seeming to cut at a diagonal from one corner to another. 

This could make or break the entire meal.

Lunch depended on this one decision.

She had been a captain in the United States Army. Seen combat. Fought. Bled. Healed countless soldiers. Helped to rebuild the entire medical division at Fort Salem. 

This should not be what brings her down.

Scylla padded up behind her, resting her chin on her frustrated wife’s shoulder, “Seriously, Raelle. You’ve done this a hundred times.”

“I remembered the crust,” she pouted, “and she keeps changing her mind.”

Scylla squeezed her hips, pecking her cheek, “It doesn’t matter. She likes strawberry jam now.”

Raelle dropped the knife to the counter, hands flailing in the air, “Damn it.”

Scylla chuckled under her breath, kissing the shell of her ear and sliding back to where she was chopping a tomato. Deft hands scooped up the red pieces and sprinkled the chunks on top of the salad they were going to have for lunch.

“Are you sure?”

Scylla hummed.

“Who doesn't like grape jelly?”

“Your daughter as of two days ago.”

“What happened two days ago?”

“Her friend Casey told her strawberry is better.”

“Who the hell is Casey?”

“They met when Hen went over to Marcus and Jade’s house.” Scylla snapped the lid on the glass container, setting the salad in the travel bag perched on the counter. “They go to school together.”

“We can give her back, right? Maybe trade her in for a kid that likes grape jelly for longer than a week?” Raelle glared at the sandwich, frowning at the purplish goop visible along the sliced border.

Defeated by jelly.

“Not how it works, babe.” Scylla wiped her hands on a nearby dishtowel.

“Do we even have strawberry jelly?” 

“Jam, and it’s on the shopping list.”

“Mom! Mama!” a tiny girl with long brunette hair flying behind her like a mini cape tumbled into the kitchen, socked feet skidding on the wooden floor, somehow already having dirt stains on her knees and hands from sneaking out to her mom’s mushroom garden to play earlier that morning.

“Hen, you like grape jelly, right?” Raelle watched her daughter dive bomb into Scylla’s legs like the pint-sized human version of a windstrike.

Her wife took it like a champ, catching her before she smacked into anything else.

“No,” Henley smiled up at her mom, the sun sparkling in her delighted blue eyes, “grape jelly is yucky.”

Scylla quirked a knowingly teasing eyebrow at Raelle who rolled her eyes and heaved an exaggerated sigh.

Henley spun around, tripping over to Raelle, “Casey says strawberry is the best and will only eat strawberry.” She blinks up at Raelle, face lighting up with an idea, “Can I have two t’morrow?”

Which meant for her school lunch.

“Why do you need two?” Raelle glanced over at Scylla mouthing, “What?”

Scylla responded with another raised eyebrow as Henley kept talking, “One for Casey!” 

“Doesn’t Casey have her own lunch?”

“Her dad doesn’t cut the crust.” Henley put her small hands on her little hips and gave a shudder. The horror quickly melted away, though, replaced with a triumphant beam, “I can give her mine!”

“Henley, if her dad already makes her lunch…”

Henley crossed her arms, trying to stand as tall as a little kid could, “She’s pretty and crusts are yucky. Pretty girls don’t eat yucky crusts. We’re not monst’rs.”

The room went silent.

Raelle blinked incredulously. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out, and she snapped it back shut with a small squint.

What was happening?

Scylla barely muffled a laugh, her hand coming up to cover her smirking lips. She had to turn a shoulder, hiding the mirth causing her face to turn a lovely shade of red, the chuckles coming from deep within her belly.

Henley glared, “D’you make mom eat crusts?”

Scylla cleared her throat, trying to maintain her composure but unable to hold in a giggle, “Yes. Do you, Raelle?”

Raelle looked at her daughter...at her wife...back to her daughter.

“Two peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwiches. Got it.” she gave in with a nod.

“Jam, Raelle.” Scylla corrected blithely. 

“Two strawberry jam sandwiches.”

“No crust.” added Henley.

“No crust.” Raelle repeated, “Because we aren’t monsters.”

“Yay!” Henley pumped a fist in the air. She spun around and began to sprint back out the way she came. 

“Slow down, Hen!” Scylla called after her. “And get your shoes, we’re leaving soon.”

“I gotta get a flower! Casey likes flowers!” Henley shouted over her shoulder.

The little girl was gone as quickly as she came, entering and leaving with a flourish.

“What was that?” Raelle asked, wincing as something smacked into the wall and the back door slammed shut loudly.

Henley was going to break something...again.

“That was your daughter wanting to give a cute girl a sandwich. And a flower.” Scylla ambled over to her, “That Collar charm starts early.”

“Ramshorn-Collar,” Raelle mumbled, shoulders easing as Scylla leaned into her, hands gliding under her shirt and up her back, scratching lightly, “Strawberry jelly. Didn’t know that was the key to a girl’s heart.”

“Imagine how much easier your life would have been if you’d only given me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich without the crust when we first met.” She kissed her chin, “And it’s jam.”

“You like the crust.” She mumbled, “And I don’t remember having too much of a problem getting you to like me.”

“Are you calling me a monster, Collar?”

“Hmm...can’t have that. I’m sworn to protect my child from all monsters.”

They even had a routine to make sure Henley’s room was monster free after the little girl snooped around Scylla’s necromancy books and saw some rather frightening pictures.

“What are you going to do?”

Raelle smirked, wiggling her eyebrows, “How would you like a delicious peanut butter and jelly sandwich without the crust?”

Scylla rolled her eyes, pecking her lips before walking back to the travel bag, picking up the small container of salad dressing and tucking it inside, “That disaster is all yours, Rae.”

“It’s still a good sandwich.” Raelle frowned at the sandwich still on the cutting board, “And..is it diagonal or up and down still?”

“Let it go, Raelle. Make her a turkey sandwich instead.”

Raelle dutifully pushed the unwanted sandwich to the side, a dribble of peanut butter joining the smear of jelly on her hand and down to her wrist. She plucked out two more slices of bread from the loaf, “It’s diagonal, isn’t it?”

“She likes triangles for her sandwiches.” Scylla confirmed.

“No crusts. Triangles. No grape. Got it.” Raelle spun around. On her way to the refrigerator to snag the turkey slices they’d bought on their last shopping trip, she took a tiny detour, sidling up behind Scylla and kissing the back of her shoulder, “You sure you don’t want that sandwich? I made it with lots of love and care.”

Scylla leaned back into her, smile soft, “You are not woo-ing me with your rejected sandwich, Raelle.”

Raelle gently brushed her long locks to the side, kissing the nape of her neck, “What can I woo you with? Crackers? One of those pudding cups? We have chocolate.” Her hands snaked across supple hips, smoothing around to link over Scylla’s stomach, thumb absentmindedly stroking the thin material.

Scylla grasped the calloused hands, bringing one up to her mouth, “Followed by midnight booty call declarations and trying to break my window while waking the neighbors?” She kissed her knuckles.

“Not a booty call.” Raelle urged her around, touching their foreheads together the moment Scylla faced her, “You might owe me a dance, though, Mrs. Ramshorn-Collar.”

“Oh?” 

“I’m thinking...maybe a few drinks. Food.” Her voice lowered, “Making love to a beautiful woman all night.”

“What does your wife think about that?”

“Hard to tell, but I think she’s ok with it. No complaints yet.” A cheeky grin, “Have you met my wife?”

Scylla smirked against her lips, hand sliding up to play with the neckline of Raelle’s shirt, “Are you asking me on a date, Collar?”

“Collar-Ramshorn, and yes, ma’am, I am.”

Goddess, when was the last time they went out together, alone, on a proper adult date?

“Sounds fun.”

“Yeah?” Raelle nuzzled her cheek.

“Yeah.” She traced the hem of Raelle’s shirt, ”We can live a little.”

“Want me to get some salva?” she kissed her lightly, “Still know some people on base. Government issued.”

Fingers dipped under her shirt, smoothing across a tiny patch of skin, mouth incredibly soft yet promising to be anything but, “Make sure it’s a full tin.” She gently bit Raelle’s bottom lip.

“Goddess, I love you.”

A muffled giggle weaved in to the moment, and the parents pulled back, peeking over toward the doorway.

Henley stood there, shoes on and laces untied, purple backpack dragging behind her, and somehow with another streak of dark brown dirt smudged across her face.

“What are you doing, Hen?” Scylla asked, patting Raelle’s side.

“You guys are weird.”

The couple shared a look, both thinking the same thing.

_Sexy weird._

“Weird?” Raelle pushed away from Scylla, marching towards their child, “Says the one who doesn’t like grape jelly.”

“It’s yucky!”

Raelle crossed her arms, a playful frown on her face, and glanced at Scylla, “I’ll deal with this.”

“No! Mama!” Henley took a step back, “We don’ have time. We gotta get a flower.”

Raelle returned her gaze to the girl, “A flower.”

“For a pretty girl.” Scylla finished with a hint of amusement while Henley nodded. She dropped her voice so only Raelle could hear, “You should know something about that, right?”

“I remember you giving me a flower right before telling me how much you liked me.” Raelle whispered back.

“Don’t make any grass rings. You Collars like to move fast.”

“You kissed me first,” she whispered back. “Besides, we know perfect when we see it.”

Henley rolled her eyes, “Mama! Mom!”

“Ok,” Raelle rubbed her hands together before gesturing at Henley to follow her, “Let me teach you what flowers work best.”

Knowing her child, she’d roll up to lunch with a handful of deathcaps or something.

“Not the garden!” Scylla shouted after them, “Wait till we get to the park.” She heard footsteps head toward the front door, “Keys, Rae!”

The footsteps stopped.

The jingle of keys being picked up was followed by a head poking back into the kitchen, “I’ll get her in the car.”

“Meet you there.” 

Raelle tossed her a wink, “Date night!”

Scylla shook her head but felt her smile widen.

Date night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A million and one kudos to those of you sticking around and reading these random snippets and peeks into this 'verse. I adore you all.
> 
> PS: Grape jelly on a PB&J FTW.


	6. Aqua Vitae

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Your wife is having a baby!”
> 
> “I know, Jess.”
> 
> Everyone knew.
> 
> The proudly displayed sonogram on Raelle's cubbyhole of a desk next to the framed photo of a bashfully grinning Scylla curled up on the beach, ruffled windswept hair floating around her beaming face as the water sparkled in front of her rumpled towel bordered by speckled sand, was a a dead giveaway if someone hadn't yet spent five minutes with the excited spouse and parent to be.
> 
> “No!” Jess gestured at the phone, “Your wife is having a baby.”
> 
> Raelle stopped.

“Dr. Ramshorn-Collar.”

“Not a doctor.” Raelle muttered, flipping open the folder and skimming the quickly filled out entry form. She hummed to herself, mind instantly thinking of and discarding different ailments and the level of power transfer needed to fully cure.

The young intern stood awkwardly, phone in hand, the curled cord stretched as far as it could go, “Um…”

“Raelle is fine, Jess.” Raelle peeked up from the papers, “Is Ms. George in the exam room?”

“Yes, but...um…” the intern stammered as Raelle walked by her, getting twisted in the cord as she tried to spin around, “there’s a call for you.”

“Have Lucy take a message and follow me. This is an easy one. I want you to handle the exam.” she wondered what form of Work the intern would think to use. While her last intern had leaned towards the canon style seed Work she remembered from Fort Salem, Jess had shown a promising aptitude for the form Raelle first learned about from her mama in the Cession. Even though a rather new intern, having only been around for a handful of weeks, Jess was quickly becoming a go-to for Raelle when it came to seeing patients. She had a friendly bedside manner and, unlike the rest of the lot, didn’t roll her eyes and toss out cheeky remarks whenever Raelle started gushing about her wife.

Her very pregnant wife who forced her to go to work even though her due date was fast approaching.

She knew Scylla was more than capable of taking care of herself. Was incredibly intelligent and didn’t need Raelle hovering around her. But, damn it, Raelle wanted to hover. 

She always wanted to be where Scylla was.

Now that it was Scylla and their baby?

How could she not want to spend her day just drinking in the sight of a glowing Scylla doing...anything?

Instead, she was filling out paperwork and meeting with the handful of witches in need of care and the few civilians brave enough to step foot in a witch run medical clinic, one of the first in the area, if not the country. It was a bit different crossing the threshold and into the waiting room instead of making backdoor deals and having a witch make a discreet house call.

“Doctor...Raelle…” the intern cursed under her breath as the cord refused to go any farther, “It’s Col. Abigail Bellweather.”

Raelle closed the folder, absentmindedly tapping it against her palm, “I don’t have time for a consult right now. Scylla is due any day, and I am not missing anything because the army still hasn’t found anyone to take over the medical division.”

She loved her friend, but she was retired. 

“Your wife is having a baby!”

“I know, Jess.”

Everyone knew.

The proudly displayed sonogram on Raelle's cubbyhole of a desk next to the framed photo of a bashfully grinning Scylla curled up on the beach, ruffled windswept hair floating around her beaming face as the water sparkled in front of her rumpled towel bordered by speckled sand, was a a dead giveaway if someone hadn't yet spent five minutes with the excited spouse and parent to be.

“No!” Jess gestured at the phone, “Your wife is having a baby.”

Raelle stopped.

Jess’s tone made something click in her head.

Slowly, she turned on her heels, “What?”

The receptionist, a lovely older witch named Lucy, who brought in cookies on Fridays and once yelled at Raelle for a good five minutes when she baked an entire tin’s worth of the cookies Scylla craved late at night, and Raelle, having skipped lunch, tried to eat one, swept in on the rolling chair she refused to let anyone else except Scylla sit in, “Your wife is giving birth, Raelle.”

Raelle stared at them, not processing what they were saying, “What?”

Lucy sighed and shot the blonde an irritated glare, “You were the top fixer in the army?” She pointed at Jess, or rather, the phone Jess was holding, “Your very pregnant wife, who you have not shut up about since I started working here, is having your kid right now.”

“Scylla’s having the baby?”

The other two nodded.

Raelle’s eyes widened, “Scylla’s having the baby!” She dropped the folder, twirling around, head swiveling back and forth. “Oh god. Oh my god.”

Scylla was having the baby. 

Their baby.

“That way, Ramshorn-Collar.” Lucy gestured toward the exit.

Raelle stumbled the way she pointed, almost face planting as she tripped over her own feet, “I...I have to go.”

She had to leave.

Scylla was having the baby.

Oh, goddess.

“Keys, Raelle!”

A jingle clinked in the air as the small set of keys flew from the reception area and smacked her in the face. She fumbled with them, dropping them once...twice...before scrambling out the door and to her car.

Lucy looked at Jess, “Should probably tell Bellweather Raelle is about to get twenty speeding tickets.”

Jess cradled the phone in her hands, the tiny voice on the line muted as it barked through the receiver, “Twenty?”

“At least,” Lucy shook her head, starting to drag the chair back to her designated spot at the desk.

“Mrs. Ramshorn-Collar is going to be ok, right?”

“Of course. Have you met her wife?”

* * *

The double doors to the maternity ward slammed open, smashing into the wall on either side with a resounding bang. Raelle burst through, shoulder first, a flurry of chaotic anxious excitement coiled up in a short explosive blonde Cession. Crashing through the entryway, she nearly tumbled to the floor, the force from using her entire body to ram the doors open sending her hurtling forward, the momentum almost too much for her tiny frame. Catching herself, she spun on her heels, arms and legs wheeling about as her feet kept moving. Only the goddess’s invisible arms and instincts honed from countless Fort Salem obstacle courses and uneven Cession fields kept her upright and going.

Completely ignoring everyone else in the room, she skidded around a pair of men standing around chatting casually and sprinted toward the desk where a nurse sat, watching the commotion with an air of disinterested unamusement. 

A hospital attendant, focused on the scrap of paper in his hand and not the woman barreling towards him, slowly meandered into her path, pushing an empty wheelchair.

Raelle didn’t slow down.

She didn’t even blink.

She actually sped up.

With a burst of agility that would make Anacostia proud, she leapt over the wheelchair like an Olympic hurdler, landing with a thud that jarred her knees if she took even a second to realize that her body was aching. 

It had been a long time since she ran like this.

Abigail and Glory were going to start badgering her about taking up jogging again.

Damn it.

She floundered to a stop in front of the nurse seated behind the desk. The scrub clad woman offered her a blank unimpressed glance.

“Yes?”

Raelle opened her mouth, but no words came out. 

She couldn’t breathe.

Oh god, everything hurt.

It burned.

Bending over, she grappled at her thighs, lungs begging for oxygen.

A hoarse wheeze came out, and her legs wobbled.

Sprinting from her haphazardly parked car wasn’t the easiest thing.

The hospital was fucking huge.

And, she was more than likely parked in a non parking area.

She didn’t really care at the moment.

She’d already run two red lights, a stop sign, and passed in a non passing zone.

The clock was ticking, and she was not missing this.

If only she could breathe.

She slapped at her left hand, finger smacking her wedding ring and waving it toward the nurse.

The nurse simply stared, waiting.

Gulping in air, Raelle stammered, “My...my wife...she…”

The nurse raised an expectant eyebrow.

Raelle waved her hands, coughing as her entire chest burned like she was back at basic trying to complete her first day of physical training. The world spun a bit, “Wife...my….”

“Does your wife have a name?”

“Scyl...Scylla…” Raelle got out, a stitch in her side pulling painfully as she tried to straighten her posture.

Goddess, she might pass out.

No one would ever let her live that down.

Scylla would kill her.

“Scylla? Last name?”

Raelle flung her hands up.

“I need a last name. Are you family?”

Family?

This was her wife!

Raelle glared at her, face red and mouth dry.

“Hey, Shirtbird!” 

Raelle weakly peered over to see Abigail Bellweather standing at the entrance to a hallway, arms crossed and a look that told her this was going to be a story the other girl told everyone for years to come.

Raelle watched her walk over, her own voice squeaking, “She...baby…”

Abigail clapped her back, “Scylla is in her room waiting for you. It’s about time you showed up.” With a nod to the nurse, she grasped Raelle’s arm and began to lead her to the row of rooms, “Tally is calling Glory and Byron. We already called your dad, and he’s on his way. Anacostia was the one to drive her over.”

Raelle nodded, not paying attention at all.

Her mind was on one thing. One person.

Well, two persons.

Abigail pointed down the hallway, “This way, doc.”

Raelle blinked.

Right.

She needed to find the room.

Scylla would be in her room.

“Let’s go, Collar. Your wife and kid are waiting.”

Her wife and kid.

She was having a kid.

With Scylla. 

Right now.

Fuck.

Raelle swayed on her feet as what was happening fully hit her.

It was like a sledgehammer to the stomach.

Followed by a jab to the chest and an uppercut to the jaw.

Followed by a truck to finish the job.

She was going to be a parent.

With Scylla.

They were going to be parents.

Her daughter was about to be born.

Goddess.

Shit.

A fear like she had never known before sank in.

Absolute terror gripped her, her entire body going cold in an instant.

She suddenly couldn’t breathe, but for a different reason.

Her entire body was a block of ice. Unmoving. Frigid. Likely to shatter if struck too hard.

She couldn’t do this. 

She was going to mess this up.

Her kid was going to hate her.

Scylla was going to hate her.

How could she think she could raise a child? Even her own mother left her, choosing strangers over her.

What did she even know about being a parent?

“Raelle?”

Raelle slowly looked at Abigail. 

“I’m having a kid.” her voice sounded muddled to her ears, like she was underwater.

“Technically, Scylla is having a kid. Right now. You need to get your shit together and get in there.” Abigail stood before her, transforming into the officer her subordinates answered to every day at Fort Salem.

Raelle stared at her, the words not sinking in.

Scylla was having a baby.

Her baby.

Their baby.

She was going to ruin Scylla’s life. 

Scylla was in the hospital because of her. Because she made Scylla do this. 

Scylla was going to have to raise their child with a Cession nobody that couldn’t even take care of herself let alone a little girl.

What if something happened to Scylla?

What if something happened to the baby?

“Ramshorn-Collar!”

Raelle snapped her head around, spine instantly stiffening and shoulders pulling back at the familiar shout, reaction automatic, years of training and serving kicking in. 

Anacostia strode towards them like a woman on a mission, signature frown in place but a twinkle in her gaze.

“What are you doing out here?” The older witch shook her head, “I don’t care. I assume you do not want to be chatting with Bellweather while your wife and baby girl are in the other room.”

Raelle clenched her jaw, her chin quivering slightly. She blinked, eyelashes fluttering over her glazed baby blues.

Inhaling deeply at the almost imperceptible reaction, Anacostia stepped up to the younger witch, her voice dropping so only the wordlessly panicking mother could hear it. “Raelle, you have brought an overabundance of stress into my life from the moment you arrived at Fort Salem as a new recruit. You and Scylla both have. Because you have an unerring ability to love each other more than logic or reason could ever understand, and it was impossible to do anything but let you two be together. Your daughter is lucky to have two parents who will love her that strongly. Now, are you going to be with your wife and welcome your daughter into this world or are you not the same witch who ignored my every order to stay away from Scylla Ramshorn? Whose retirement I accepted solely for the fact that I knew you wanted this family more than anything else on this earth?”

It wasn’t even a question.

She was going to be with Scylla.

She was going to be with her family.

Always.

With a determined look she was off, sprinting down the hallway, leaving the officers behind without a word.

“Last door on the left!” Abigail called after her.

Raelle flipped up a hand, darting the length of the hallway and careening the sharp turn into the room.

Scylla looked up as a loud crash echoed in the doorway to the small hospital room.

She spotted Raelle colliding painfully with the doorframe, hair windswept and the collar of her shirt visibly askew, one pair of shoelaces somehow untied and only half her shirt tucked in. She didn’t even know where her jacket was.

“Raelle?”

“Hey, beautiful.” Raelle’s entire aura softened as she locked eyes with the brunette. Every ounce of fear and worry disappeared the second she laid eyes on the other woman. She slowly walked into the room, grin tender and full of light beaming at Scylla as the older woman sat up in the bed, pillows cushioning her back. Raelle snagged the chair perched at the bedside and slipped into it, their hands immediately drifting together, “Heard you were trying to have a baby without me.” She lifted their joined hands to her lips and pressed an affectionate kiss to the back of Scylla’s.

Scylla squeezed her hand, “Thought you might be busy still trying to assemble the crib.” Raelle had spent over half a day surrounded by tools and random pieces of wood she swore were not the same as those pictured on the instructions. 

Edwin had to be called and put on speaker phone.

Scylla winced as a contraction hit.

They’d been coming quick and fast, almost blending together, one right after the other.

“Hey,” Raelle clasped Scylla’s hand between both of her own. 

“Rae, stop.” Scylla ordered through gritted teeth the moment she started hearing a bible verse.

“Let me help, Scyl.” Raelle whispered.

Scylla leaned further back against the thin pillows, “Just...be here for right now. Please.”

“Ok,” Raelle breathed out, “but, once it gets bad, I’m jumping in.”

She was a fixer.

There was no way she was letting Scylla go through the pain of introducing their kid to the world without Raelle sharing in it. 

Scylla wet her lips, trying to not focus on how much her body hurt, “She’s going to have your eyes.”

“Nah,” Raelle scooted the chair closer, “yours. Your smile. Those eyes and that smile? I’m not going to win anything anymore.”

Scylla smirked, “She’s going to be necro.”

“No way. Fixer.”

“With your hair.”

“Your nose.”

“Your ears.”

“She’s going to hate mushrooms. Hate them.” Raelle teased. “We'll have to get rid of the garden you’ve wanted. Maybe plant some medicinal herbs...since she’ll be going to medical school. To be a fixer.”

“I hope she’s like you.”

“A fixer?” Raelle joked, biting her bottom lip as the routine banter caused a surge of emotion to scratch at the back of her throat.

She wasn’t going to cry.

She wasn’t.

“Loving.” Scylla sobered, hopeful love filled gaze breaking through the pain, “Powerful. Brave.”

“Sounds like you, Scyl.” 

Scylla grimaced, pain blooming across her face, and overtaking whatever else she was going to say, “Ok. Shit. That hurt.”

Raelle peeked at her watch, mentally calculating how long it had been since the last one, “I’ll get the midwife.”

Scylla nodded, breathing out heavily as the pain receded only a little bit before coming back again, “Raelle…”

“Right. Midwife.” She leaned forward and kissed Scylla’s cheek before standing, “Love you.”

“Shit.”

Raelle was up and out of her seat in a flash, “Nurse!”

The baby was coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, who ordered the fluff with a side of extra fluffiness?


	7. Merlot and Moonshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henley snuck in through the back door, taking care to close the old wooden barrier as slowly as possible, the hinges in need of oiling based on how badly they squeaked during the day. Holding her breath, she listened as the subtle click echoed in the silence, signaling it was shut . Exhaling softly, she gingerly picked her way through the darkened house.
> 
> It was late.
> 
> Really late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after First Death but before Bitters on the Rocks.

Henley snuck in through the back door, taking care to close the old wooden barrier as slowly as possible, the hinges in need of oiling based on how badly they squeaked during the day. Holding her breath, she listened as the subtle click echoed in the silence, signaling it was shut . Exhaling softly, she gingerly picked her way through the darkened house.

It was late.

Really late.

But, Allison had looked so pretty in the moonlight, Henley couldn’t help but walk her home, which turned into a stroll around town. 

And, if Henley got to hold her hand and steal a kiss or two or three, well, it was worth having to sneak back in and hope her parents were asleep.

Goddess, she liked her.

Eyes so green Henley wondered if people wrote poems just to try to describe how beautiful someone could look when they smiled and their eyes took on a sort of twinkle that made Henley want to pull her close and never let her go. Her girl was smart and kind...and her girl.

Henley grinned.

Her girl.

Allison was her girl.

For a blaster, Henley thought she had the sweetest hands of anyone she’d ever met. They weren’t hands that would hurt. Their strength was in making people feel better. Because, she made Henley feel better, no matter what. She made Henley feel like everything was ok with one touch. Allison’s hands were strong but not forceful.

She wondered if maybe Allison wasn’t a blaster at all. 

Sure, her family were blasters. Allison expected to be one once she arrived at Fort Salem which...Henley did not want to think about how much she was going to miss seeing her and being able to hug her every day...but she could be something else.

A fixer.

Henley rolled her eyes. Her mama would love to know her daughter found herself with a fixer.

She could hear the teasing now.

Creeping toward the stairs, holding her breath so as not to make any noise, she caught sight of a light coming from the kitchen.

She should ignore it and go to her room.

Either her parents forgot to turn it off or her mom was most likely up sipping tea and reading one of the many books and papers always strewn about the house. The only question being if it was something for work or one of the things her and Aunt Abigail would drink wine while pretending to have deep philosophical discussions about when they really were getting tipsy and teasing each other or their friends.

The Bellweather/Ramshorn-Collar book club thrived on a good bottle of wine and a sometimes questionably solid piece of literature.

Either way, it wasn’t something that would help Henley not get caught.

Which, she did not want to do.

Yet, she couldn’t help but want to know.

The urge to investigate overwhelmed her. 

Tickled her brain like a teasing feather, unrelenting and annoying.

Curiosity sometimes could be her downfall.

Just like how she thought a monster was going to jump out of her closet and suck her into a vortex leading to the underworld when she was a toddler.

Inhaling deeply, she steeled herself. Sneakers padded over toward the entrance to the kitchen.

She paused when she heard a giggle.

Peeking around the corner, she rolled her eyes but felt a warmth fill her chest and reflect in her growing grin.

The artificial fluorescent light reflected off the nearly empty wine glass on the table, only a tiny dribble of red left in the bottom. A cup half full of clear liquid, more than likely her grandpa’s moonshine, sat next to it.

Playing across the glass was the image of her parents, a mini version of the real thing a few feet away.

Her mama twirled her mom around, guiding her under her outstretched arm before tugging her back in close, one hand landing on her hip as the other laced with its marble hued counterpart. Scylla, wine stained lips pressing to Raelle’s, leaving behind a splash of dark cherry red, curled her hand around the nape of the blonde’s neck, holding her close as they swayed together. 

It took a moment for Henley to hear the soft melody tinkling from the radio perched on the counter, an open bottle of wine standing guard next to it. She couldn’t quite make out the tune, not recognizing the little snippets that reached her ears.

But, clearly, her parents did.

“Prettiest gal ‘round.” Raelle murmured, kissing Scylla lightly. “Best thing I’ve ev’r had.”

“You’re cute.”

“You're beautiful.”

“You’re drunk.”

“No...no ma’am, I am not.” Raelle spun them around, “Collars don’ get drunk.”

“Ramshorn-Collars.”

“Them, too.”

Scylla laughed under her breath, “Tell that to your hangover tomorrow.”

“No, no ma’am. I’ll be jus’ fine.” Raelle nuzzled her cheek, “Goddess, you’re so pretty.”

“You’re not too bad yourself.”

“I’d very much like ta dance with ya.”

Scylla’s hand slid around, cupping her jaw, smile soft and adoring as the hint of the drawl that always made her stomach flutter like millions of butterflies had somehow been let loose inside became more pronounced, “We are dancing, Rae.”

Raelle kissed the spot right below her ear, “Few more minutes, then.”

“Ok,” Scylla squeezed the hand holding her own.

Raelle’s mouth caressed her ear, “Marry me.”

Scylla turned her head, pressing their foreheads together, “How many times are you going to propose to me?”

“As many times as it takes.”

“What if I already said yes?”

“Don’ mean you can’ say yes again.”

Scylla kissed her, “The moonshine’s hitting you hard, Rae.” Her accent was really thickening, slow and sweet like honey dipped molasses on a hot Cession summer night. 

Raelle chased after her lips, “Can go to the beach. Swim in the ocean.”

“Sounds nice.”

Raelle closed her eyes, breathing in the moment, “Ya still make everythin’ ok.”

Scylla’s chin quivered slightly, her smile impossibly tender, “You do, too. Always.”

“Don’ know what I’d do without you and Hen.” she buried her face in the crook of Scylla’s neck, mouthing tiny kisses as she spoke, “I love you.”

Henley leaned back around the corner, pressing her back into the wall. She felt weird, like an intruder interloping on a special moment not meant for her, for anyone else but the two older witches. Yet, she couldn’t help but want to watch. To see two people who were still in love with each other.

To see her parents happy.

Her friends sometimes made fun of how close her parents could be, flirty and touchy, holding hands or leaning in to each other, a hand at the small of the other’s back and even the mere knowing looks shared between them when they couldn’t be within reach of each other.

And don’t get them started on her mama’s declarations about _her wife_.

All Henley could see was a future she dreamt of.

Finding her _one_. Falling in love. Serving and making everyone proud, making her family proud, before settling down. As in love fifty years from now as she would be in her wedding photo. Like her mama, dressed in her sparkling distinguished uniform, unbearably happy knowing the woman at her side would still be there forever.

She closed her eyes, knowing she should leave. She needed to get up to her room before anyone noticed.

The romantic in her, the voice her mom said she got from her mama, piped up that a few more seconds wouldn’t hurt. Watching the couple, watching what she secretly hoped to one day have herself, to see her family so content and satisfied, made her heart want to burst. Made her want to keep watching, knowing the two people she loved so much were...the way she would always picture them being. 

She silently prayed they never stopped smiling like that.

She couldn’t explain how...safe...happy...good it made her feel knowing her parents were ok.

They were her rock. The people who taught her everything she knew.

She wanted to make them proud one day.

To be like them.

The more rational side of her screamed that if she waited any longer she would get caught and have to explain to her parents why she was not only awake at such a late hour but not even dressed for bed.

Not a pride inducing moment.

The choice was made for her a moment later.

“Henley, you can come in here.”

Henley froze as Scylla’s voice called out.

She didn’t hear anger.

That was good.

Right?

Maybe they wouldn’t care?

Henley held on to her thin strand of hope and stepped around the corner, “Hey mom...mama.” She offered them a confident charming grin that only shook a little with nerves. 

Scylla stood near the table, an air of resignation about her. Raelle had her back leaned against the counter, the glass of alcohol in her hand Henley would swear was moonshine.

“What are you doing up so late, Hen?” Scylla asked, the hint of disappointment shimmering in the question.

“I was...taking out the trash. I remembered I forgot to earlier.”

Scylla’s eyebrow rose.

She wasn’t buying it.

At all.

Henley shrunk under the stare. “I was with Allison.” she mumbled.

Scylla shifted on her feet.

“Not like that.” Henley quick added. “We just...walked around talking and lost track of time.”

“Henley,” Scylla sighed.

“I know.” Henley held up her hands, “I’m sorry. She...it was really nice talking to her. I’ll call next time, or come home or…”

“Did ya take her to the park?” Raelle swirled the liquid in her glass.

“What?” Henley startled at the seemingly random question while Scylla rubbed at her temple with another sigh.

“The park.” Raelle waved her glass, “It’s really pretty at night and a beautiful girl deserves to be taken to a nice spot and you can see the stars really great from there and I sure hope you told your girl she’s pretty at least five times and treated her right because Allison is a nice girl and she makes you happy and…” she glanced at Scylla, “...you should not be out late at night because you could get hurt and you need to call us because we’ve been up worried and did ya at least walk her home ‘cause your mom and I did not teach ya ta not walk her home.”

Henley blinked, unable to hide her smirk.

Her mama really was drunk.

“Raelle, I love you. Let me handle this one.” Scylla whispered.

“Ok, sure, right.” Raelle nodded. She pushed off the counter, “Imma be,” she gestured vaguely toward the rest of the house.

“I’ll be up in our room in a few minutes.” Scylla spoke.

Raelle ambled toward the entryway, kissing Scylla’s cheek when she passed her. As she drew close to Henley, she pointed at her, still holding her drink, “Listen to your mom. She loves ya and is super damn smart and knows what she’s talkin’ ‘bout unless she's talking ‘bout how long we’ve been married because she can’t add.”

“Raelle.”

“And I love her very much.” Raelle patted her daughter’s arm, “Love ya, Hen. You’re in so much trouble.” She slipped out of the room.

The other two Ramshorn-Collars watched her go. 

“Mama is going to have a crazy headache tomorrow.” Henley pointed out.

Scylla hummed, “Thank goodness you’ll be around to help take care of her since you’re grounded.”

Henley spun to face her, “What?”

“Henley,”

“Mom...I told you why I was late. We lost track of time. I wasn’t…”

“I don’t care that you were with Allison.” Scylla actually expected her to be with the way she gushed about the other girl all the time, “I care that you promised you would let us know where you were. We’ve talked about this, Hen. It’s not safe out at night. Not this late. Anything could have happened to you, and we wouldn’t know because you didn’t tell us. You were supposed to be home hours ago.”

Henley’s head dropped at the admonition. She rubbed her hands together sheepishly, “I know.”

“It’s late,” Scylla rubbed the side of her face, “Go to sleep. I need to make sure your mama isn’t planning to monologue another proposal. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“I am sorry, mom.”

“I know.” she walked over and rubbed her arm, “Go to bed, Henley. You’re making breakfast in the morning. Remember, your mama will feel like you did when you came home drunk.”

“Goddess, that was terrible.” she shuddered.

She felt like she was dying when she woke up. 

It was the absolute worst.

Hangovers sucked.

“And be just as grumpy.” Scylla rubbed her arm one more time before stepping away and turning out the light, “Bed, Hen.”

Henley nodded and watched her ease her way toward the stairs and out of sight.

She loved her parents, even if they grounded her for something she was sure they’d done when they were her age.

And she’d have to deal with her grumpy mama in the morning.

But, she couldn’t find it in herself to be too upset. She got to spend most of the night with Allison. She bit her lip thoughtfully. 

She wondered what it would be like to be at Fort Salem with her girl.

Holding her hand and dancing with her in her polished uniform.

It was a nice picture.

Sure, University sounded nice but...

She let out a sigh and began the trek to the stairs.


	8. Teetotaler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That’s when Scylla heard it.
> 
> A muted shuffling puttered from beneath the closed bedroom door. Footsteps barely audible in the twilight. 
> 
> Scylla sighed.
> 
> She knew what woke her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place before Bitters on the Rocks.

Scylla startled awake, body tensing as her foggy mind worked to figure out what was happening. She blinked slowly and rubbed the heel of her hand in her eye, lungs breathing in deeply as the sweet cloud of sleep dissipated. A glance at the clock on her bedside table, balanced precariously next to the book she had been reading for her next meetup with Abigail, glasses balanced on top, glared back at her, angry and firm.

It was almost two in the morning. 

Much too early to do anything but sleep.

The cloudy lure of dreams tugged at her, making her lashes want to droop and her body feel boneless and heavy, limbs sinking into the mattress like soft cushy quicksand.

She felt a shift beside her and blearily turned her shoulder, letting her eyes follow the path of the streak of moonlight glistening in through the window as it panned in a silvery line over the rumpled and twisted blankets.

The ghostly glimmer revealed a vision that she would never get tired of.

Raelle was sound asleep, face pressed into her pillow and hand resting lazily on the curve of Scylla’s hip. The brunette couldn’t help but softly brush the tousled hair from her wife’s face, fingertips skimming the length of her jaw, appreciating the tiny wrinkles dotting the corner of her eye and the peaceful curve of her mouth.

Raelle always looked so beautiful, serene, as she slept. Whatever demons still secretly haunted her banished and replaced with nothing but contentment. The nightmares that used to plague her, plague both of them, now rare to the point of forgetfulness. The presence of the other in the familiar cocoon of their shared bed was enough to ward away the spectres of the past. Even as they grew older, Scylla swore the blonde still was the most gorgeously handsome woman she’d ever seen. Raelle liked to say Scylla was the pretty one, enjoyed kissing every new line that appeared on her face the same as she still did every freckle that dotted Scylla’s body, but Scylla was the one who could get lost forever in blue eyes and a charming grin and never care if she was found again.

She’d happily live her life curled up in powerfully soft arms and listen to a raspy voice whisper about dancing and drinks and rings made of grass.

Scylla let her fingertips trickle down a smooth cheek, retracing the cut of her jaw, strong yet supple, before it slid down the side of her neck and across the breadth of her shoulder.

Raelle sniffled, unconsciously rolling closer to her wife, angling her body to cross what little distance was between them in the bed.

That’s when Scylla heard it.

A muted shuffling puttered from beneath the closed bedroom door. Footsteps barely audible in the twilight. 

Scylla sighed.

She knew what woke her.

Pursing her lips, the brunette carefully untangled the sheets wrapped around her legs and slid out of the bed, easing out from beneath the blankets and doing her best not to wince as her bare feet connected with the cold floor. She shivered as the frigid crisp air greeted her sleep warmed skin, and she crossed her arms, hands rubbing up and down her bare biceps. Wearing one of Raelle’s torn sleeveless shirts was probably not the best idea for a winter’s night, but they hadn’t finished the laundry and Raelle’s smirk appeared when she caught sight of the expanse of freckles that adorned pale skin. Besides, Raelle had cuddled up to her when they turned out the lights, providing plenty of heat as she wrapped herself around the older woman, kissing her cheek and nuzzling into an embrace that made both of them relax in safe contentment. 

Padding quietly around the bed, Scylla snagged an errant sweatshirt draped at the foot of it, thick and with the hood missing the string, and tugged it on, curling her hands beneath the long threadbare cuffs.

She thought it might have been Raelle’s, but she couldn’t be certain. It wasn’t important, anyway. All that mattered was it felt soft and warm - like a hug from her wife.

“Scyl?” Raelle rasped into the pillow, her voice little more than a hoarse grumble.

Scylla crept over to her wife’s side of the bed, gently laying a hand on her back, “Go back to sleep, Rae.”

“You ok?” Raelle blindly reached out and curled her fingers in the thin cotton of Scylla’s pajama pants. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” Scylla bent down and kissed the top of her head, “I’ll be right back.”

“Love you.” Raelle’s hand fell away, her breaths evening out.

Scylla grabbed the blankets and pulled them up around the blonde’s shoulders, pressing another quick kiss to her temple, “Love you, too.”

Straightening up, she silently opened the bedroom door and ducked outside. Unhurried footsteps guided her down the hallway and to the stairs, which she took slowly, the darkness and wanting to not wake Raelle causing her to take her time. Making sure to miss the squeaky step, goddess, that thing was never getting fixed, she successfully reached the landing and quickly made her way to the kitchen.

Flicking on the light, eyes rapidly adjusting to the sudden brightness, the well known routine kicked in with a yawn, her body moving on autopilot. 

By the time a sheepish bedraggled Henley dragged herself into the kitchen, hair a wavy mess and string missing from her loose hoodie, a steaming cup of chamomile tea awaited her at the table, Scylla sipping hers as she sat in the chair, cradling the mug and letting the steam warm her face. The sweet flowery scent tickled her senses and calmed her mind, and she relaxed into her chair as the nearby clock ticked to another minute passed.

Through the window, a flurry of snowflakes, the first of the season, floated around the glass like enticing white fairies. Dots streaked the frosty panes. Most likely the evidence would be gone by sunrise, the orangish pink rays melting whatever little gifts the goddess bestowed upon the land. Winter’s warning disappearing under the mighty power of the burning star.

Raelle would grumble about how cold it was but secretly be upset she missed catching the first snow. Even after all this time, she could be like a little kid at the first sight of the white fluff. Henley was like her mama with that. She could grumble about the cold, but within minutes she’d be outside, slipping and sliding as she unsuccessfully tried to terrorize her family and the neighbors with clumsily made snowballs that were more powder than anything else.

Eventually, Scylla would have to end the attacks with a well timed assault that made Henley always volunteer to be on her team if it ever came down to a snow battle.

This cold snap meant winter was coming, though. It was a bit later this year, it seemed, but soon it would be time to break out the thick coats and gloves.

Scylla briefly wondered about dragging her wayward wife away for another quick vacation. A weekend up in the mountains or down at the beach before the snow truly started and it got much too cold for her southern cession.

A lazy stroll on the beach, watching the boats out in the distance, waves gently crashing against the shore, Raelle’s hand in hers, sounded divine. 

“Hi, Mom.” Henley dropped into the chair across from her, tentatively grasping her drink and pulling it in, taking a deep whiff of the soothing scent. She could feel the warmth of the cup through the fabric of her own sweatshirt, sleeves hiding her knuckles and crinkled in the curves of her fingers.

“Hi, Honey.” Scylla smiled affectionately at her teenage daughter.

Henley curled up in the chair, hooking the arch of her foot on the seat and wrapping her arm around her shin. She curled her other leg in front of her and let her drink settle on the inside of her bent knee.

Scylla smiled to herself, remembering how Abigail once pointed out Henley couldn’t sit normally if her life depended on it. 

Her mama tended to do the same thing. 

The kitchen grew quiet, Henley chewing over her thoughts and Scylla waiting patiently to learn why her child was up so late.

Henley bit her lip, sniffing anxiously and rubbing her nose with the back of her hand, not looking at the other witch, eyes landing on everything else. She wet her lips, unconsciously fiddling with the handle of her mug to the point Scylla wondered if she was going to drop it.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

Though she kept silent, wanting Henley to become comfortable enough in whatever her words were to say them, Scylla felt a spark of worry bloom in her belly.

Something was troubling Henley.

Really bothering her. 

She could tell in an instant, and she immediately wondered what it was.

She couldn’t remember seeing Henley this upset in a while.

Not since the family had been out grabbing ice cream after a long week, and a red faced glaring civilian decided he needed to let people know how witches shouldn’t be trusted and he couldn’t believe how they were allowed to freely move around like they were normal people.

That had not ended well for him. 

It had taken some sweet talking, and ultimately the ice cream shop owner vouching for the blonde, to keep Raelle out of jail because, before anyone could even react, as Scylla stepped in front of Henley to block her from the civilian’s sight, the blonde’s protective temper had her fist in the man’s face.

Sometimes Scylla wondered how much things had actually changed.

Back straightening, face setting into a firm look of challenging confidence that Scylla swore her wife made when about to say something she knew she shouldn’t but was going to anyway, Henley said, “I don’t want to be a fixer.”

Scylla blinked.

Blinked again.

“Ok.”

Was she supposed to be surprised by this?

Because, she loved her child, but there was not one ounce of Henley that leaned towards anything other than being a necro.

The mini necro flag pinned to her backpack that was stuffed full of necromancy papers and books proved that.

Henley continued defiantly, but a thin quiver of anxious fearful desperation seeped in, flashing in her stubborn gaze, “I can’t be a fixer. I know Mama wants me to, and Collars are fixers, but I can’t, Mom. I can’t do it. And,” her voice quivered, “I know Mama is going to be mad and disappointed because I let her down, but I’m not a fixer, Mom. I’m not.” She exhaled loudly, brow twitching and jaw ticking, “I’m not her, even though everyone says I am, and…”

Oh no.

Scylla jumped in when Henley paused to take a quick gasp of a breath, “Henley, honey, slow down.” She set her tea down and leaned forward, her hand coming to rest on the tabletop, “It’s ok.”

“No, Mom, it’s not.” she sniffed, jaw clicking, “Mama was the best fixer in the army, and everyone expects me to be like her. _She_ expects me to be like her.”

“That’s not true.”

No one expected Henley to be like Raelle, least of all Raelle. Out of everyone, it was the blonde who was bowled over and startled every time her daughter did something like her. And, as far as fixing went, that gene had skipped the teenager.

Hard.

“I don’t want her to be disappointed in me.” Henley quietly admitted. Her head dipped low, and long locks of wavy brown curtained around her face, hiding the pursed lips pushing back a grimace.

Scylla felt her heart break.

“Hen, no.” she tilted her head, urging her daughter to meet her understanding gaze, “You could never be a disappointment to me or your mama.”

“But,”

“Never, Henley.” Scylla spoke softly but strongly. “Your mama loves you. We both do. More than anything. You could become a mushroom gardner, and your mama would think you’re the best thing in the world.”

Raelle would.

After joking about how Henley hated mushrooms.

Their entire backyard would warp into a mushroom garden if that happened.

With Raelle supervising because that woman could not grow anything to save her life, let alone a mushroom.

Scylla still couldn’t believe how inept she was when they first started the garden out back.

Raelle could literally kill fungi - the representation of the underworld.

Henley shrugged unconvincingly, staring down at her now cold tea. The fight was gone. She’d used up whatever bulldozing determination she needed to get it out, and now an air of almost resigned accepting melancholy was setting in. 

She was drifting back into her own head. Letting whatever these fears and doubts were take over and tumble around until she thought of nothing else.

Scylla silently sighed, “Hen, your mama and I never thought you would be a fixer.”

“What?” her head whipped up, face falling with surprise.

Scylla’s lips lifted in a small smile, “Henley, you are incredibly smart. Powerful. Strong. But, honey, you can barely open a bandaid. When your mama took you to her clinic, you spent the entire time eating cookies and telling Lucy about why Samhain is the best holiday before pointing out everything wrong about necromancy in the Odyssey and why you shouldn’t be forced to read such bullshit in school.”

Lucy had agreed with the young witch and gave her Raelle’s cookie.

When Raelle asked about it, Lucy simply gave her a look.

Raelle didn’t ask again.

The duo did bring home a carefully wrapped cookie for Scylla, though.

"You are as interested in fixing as you are in washing the dishes." Scylla finished.

"I hate washing the dishes." Henley grumbled.

A family trait.

Rule of thumb, never leave the two youngest Ramshorn-Collars to do the dishes. There wouldn't be a clean dish in the house.

Henley frowned, “But...Mama says I’m going to be a fixer.”

“Your mama still thinks mushrooms are plants. I love her, but she's joking, Hen. And, honey, _you know that._ ” 

There was something else here.

Something else bothering the teenager.

“But, what if she’s not?” Henley pulled her knee tighter against her chest, torn between wanting to move around and curl up into a ball. “What if she really means it? She was the best in the country, right? Some of her patients still talk about what she did, and Aunt Abigail is always asking her to consult.”

Scylla had to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

She liked Bellweather, but this was a sticky point between them.

The army really needed to stop trying to act as if Raelle didn’t leave and was their obedient puppy waiting to hear a whistle to be called back to service.

Of course, why would the army respect the fact she was retired?

Why would they respect her at all?

A witch was never truly free.

No way out.

“Henley, do you remember a few years ago when you saw your Grandma Willa?”

Which had been a fiasco.

Raelle barely kept in touch with her mother, only doing so because of Henley, and even that was tentative. Neither one of them truly trusted or were comfortable with Willa and they definitely did not trust her with their child. And both fixers were too stubborn to move an inch, Willa even more so than her daughter. 

Raelle never fully got past what Willa had done.

Lying.

Sending Scylla to recruit her.

Leaving her family behind.

Leaving her and her dad behind.

And, on dark nights, her own fear that she could do the same, because if her mama did it, why wouldn’t she?

Scylla was there to remind her that, out of the two of them, it was Raelle who taught her to stay. To fight. To love.

Raelle was the first one to choose to stay. Who came back. Gave _them_ a chance when Scylla was still pretending like she wasn’t falling in love.

But, Willa never fully understood her daughter’s thoughts. Feelings. Why Raelle didn’t understand the choice Willa made and why Willa did what she did.

The problem was, Raelle did understand. In a way. Beyond the anger and grief.

She just could never make the same decision.

Deep down, Raelle could never choose to leave her family. To stay away from her family.

Not like that.

Henley nodded. “Grandma talked about how Collars are fixers. How I was powerful and going to continue the family line. How all Collars are fixers.”

“What did your mama say?” Or at least what Henley heard before the Collar women stormed off to a far corner and did not have a pleasant conversation.

One that Scylla was all too happy to join.

“She said,” Henley squinted as she fought to recall, “I’m not a Collar. That I’m a _Ramshorn-Collar_ , and that’s why I’m strong.” A tiny smirk, “Then she started talking about _her wife_ and Grandma did not look happy. I think Mama was trying to piss her off.”

There was no trying involved.

“Sounds like the Collars,” Scylla shook her head in exasperation, “Henley, it doesn’t matter what your Grandma thinks. It doesn’t matter what anyone wants except you. Ok? What is it you want to do?”

There was no hesitation. “Necromancy. I want to be a necro. I...I want to be like you. Well, you and Mama, but in the necro field.”

“Ok.” she fought to hide the way her chest filled with an almost unbearable lightness and prideful happiness at that. 

“But Mama…” 

She shot her daughter a grin, “You don’t have to worry about your mama.” 

“How can you be sure?”

“I love your mama, but we both know she can be a bit of a dumbass.” earned a snort from the teenager. Scylla’s eyebrow quirked, “Who do you think spent way too much time and energy getting you that necro starter kit and Work book that was way too advanced for your age when you were younger.”

Goddess, that had been a discussion.

Raelle wanted to get something cool for their kid for her birthday.

Scylla didn’t want Henley trying to speak with the dead before she hit puberty.

Raelle did not read the fine print on the kit close enough.

“Henley, listen to me.” Scylla soothed, “No matter what, your mama and I love you. There’s nothing you could do that could change that. Nothing. We will always support you. You are our daughter. That means you can’t get rid of us. You’re stuck with us, Henley. I’m stuck with your mama, you might as well be too.”

Henley rolled her eyes, “Stuck...like how your faces were when I caught you two making out the other night.”

“You were supposed to be practicing your speech for English class.”

“You were in the living room, mom. Public space.”

Scylla shrugged, “Talk to your mama. She started it.”

“You didn’t stop it.”

“Have I ever been able to get your mama to _not_ do something she wanted to do?”

“Yes. Every day.” Henley giggled. Her laughter slowly drifted away as she bit her lip, hand digging into the front pouch pocket of her sweatshirt. She felt the smooth circular medal of her mama’s military medal. A tiny trinket she’d borrowed one day to look at and now was a piece of solace much like the cup of tea, now cold, in front of her.

Scylla took a sip of her own tepid tea, affectionate eyes watching the flicker of thought cross her child’s face. She could feel something else was on Henley’s mind, but couldn’t quite figure out what it was. 

Henley wet her lips, throat bobbing, “What if I’m not good enough?”

Scylla reared back a bit, “What?”

She held on tightly to the medal, “You and Mama...you’re both really smart, and everyone knows how powerful you are. You’ve done so many things.You created your own Work! You can do things that...have done things that are...incredible. Everyone says so. I…” her voice dropped, “I don’t want to be a disappointment.” Her voice became nearly inaudible, "I don't want to disappoint _you_."

“That’s impossible.” Scylla leaned across the table, “You are incredibly gifted, Henley. You have no idea how powerful you are. There is no way you could ever be a disappointment. We are already so so proud of you. You don’t have to worry about that.”

Henley gave an uncertain nod.

Her entire family was full of powerful witches. Her Aunt Abigial...her Aunt Tally...Aunt Anacostia...Aunt Glory...

And her moms were...

Her entire family had served in the military. Accomplished so much. 

She wanted to make them proud. Knew she could. Wanted to stand there in her shiny uniform like her mama and aunts did in pictures. Be able to perform Work like her mom could.

But, what if she couldn't?

What if she didn't?

Whatever else she might say or feel, wasn’t going to be discussed that night. A suddenly jaw cracking yawn had Henley blinking dazedly.

“Ok, time for bed.” Scylla pushed to her feet, “Let’s go, Hen.”

Henley rubbed at her eye, “I’m awake.”

“Not for long.” She’d be out the moment her head hit the pillow, “Go on. We can talk more in the morning.”

Henley exhaled loudly but stood up, wobbling a bit as the late hour fully hit her. “Ok.” She shuffled around hugging her mom before dragging herself out of the kitchen.

As footsteps lethargically crept up the stairs, Scylla stood alone, listening to the quiet, her daughter’s worries sticking in her mind. She unconsciously twisted the ring on her finger and glanced around the now empty room before moving to turn off the light. The snow continued to fall outside the window, tender white flakes, each unique in its own special way, melting away as they scattered across the land.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, a giant virtual social distanced hug to you wonderful readers (especially after that other story you may or may not have read).


	9. Black Tie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This is dumb.” Raelle grumbled from inside the closet. She tugged at the cuffs of her starched white shirt and pulled listlessly at her buttoned up collar. “Why am I wearing this?”
> 
> “Because it’s the theatre, Rae.” Scylla stood in front of the mirror, delicately pinning her earrings in, small simple gems that sparkled in the lamplight.
> 
> “Since when do we go to the theatre?” She crouched down, poking around at the shoes neatly stacked in the corner.
> 
> “Since Abigail gave us tickets and told you to finally take me somewhere nice for a date.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after First Death.

A smear of bright purple grape jelly streaked across the outside of Henley’s palm, a dab of salty sweet peanut butter dotting the curve of her wrist as she popped the last crustless bite into her mouth, slowly chewing her snack and hopping up the stairs, making sure to skip over the squeaky one.

Her grandpa supposedly was going to fix it the next time he visited.

Her mama swore she was getting to it. It was on the list of things to do.

Her mom had been thumbing through the phonebook in the handyperson section the other day.

Climbing the short distance, Henley hummed to herself, savoring the last bit of deliciousness on her tongue. She couldn’t help but smile. It had been a good day. 

And, it was going to be an even better night.

Hearing voices, she padded toward the noise, bare-feet silent as they guided her to her parents’ open bedroom door.

“This is dumb.” Raelle grumbled from inside the closet. She tugged at the cuffs of her starched white shirt and pulled listlessly at her buttoned up collar. “Why am I wearing this?”

“Because it’s the theatre, Rae.” Scylla stood in front of the mirror, delicately pinning her earrings in, small simple gems that sparkled in the lamplight.

“Since when do we go to the theatre?” She crouched down, poking around at the shoes neatly stacked in the corner.

“Since Abigail gave us tickets and told you to finally take me somewhere nice for a date.”

Raelle huffed, crawling in further, “I take you nice places.”

“I know you do, baby.” 

“Do you know where my shoes are?”

“Which ones?”

“The black ones.” she peered around, pushing aside a worn out pair of sneakers and frowning as she lifted up an errant sweatshirt she had been searching for. 

Her frown deepened as she noticed the box she kept her leftover army things in was slightly crooked, the lid partially opened. Shrugging it off, she slapped the lid closed, a smirk forming as she spotted her shoes, “Found ‘em!”

“Well done, Rae. You should have been a knower.” Scylla teased, double checking that her hair was perfectly in place.

Clambering to her feet, Raelle began to slip her discovery on, “I still don’t get why I have to wear this.”

She looked stupid.

Her dad would laugh at her if he saw her.

Byron too.

The bastard.

“It’s black tie, Raelle.” Scylla smiled at her bent over head through the mirror, “And you look hot in that tux.”

Another gift from the high atlantic, because Raelle couldn’t default to her uniform anymore, and, goddess help her, she needed something not half in shambles or clinic ready to wear when Abigail invited them to a Bellweather event.

Raelle is almost certain it came about because of a Book Club meeting, but she couldn’t be sure.

Scylla and Abi were tight lipped about what was discussed most of the time during the wine infused get-togethers.

Raelle rolled her eyes, doing her best not to tip over as she put on her other shoe, hopping a few steps and catching herself against the wall, “I look like one of those penguins in Hen’s kid’s book.”

“Cute and cuddly and flaps their wings a lot. Sounds like you.”

“You are so mean.” Raelle finally finished shoving her feet in the stiff leather oxfords. Straightening, she looked up at her wife.

And blinked.

Her mouth might have dropped open.

It did drop open.

Catching her stare, Scylla raised an eyebrow, “What?”

“Goddess, you’re beautiful.”

Scylla shook her head, a dusting of pink tinging her cheeks as she smiled, “You’re not too bad yourself, Ms. Penguin.”

A slow enamored grin spread across her face, “Marry me.”

Scylla held up her left hand, ring glinting as she wiggled her finger.

“Oh, right.” The grin grew, “I put a ring on that.”

“Quite a while ago.”

Raelle slowly approached her, “We can skip. Stay here.” She wet her lips, “Not going to see anything else except you all night, anyways.” She lightly touched her hips, brushing up against her back and pressing a delicate kiss to her exposed shoulder, “Prettiest gal I’ve ever seen.”

Scylla leaned into her, reaching back and caressing her cheek, “You promised me dinner and a show.”

“Got sandwiches downstairs, and I’ll show you whatever you want to see.” she whispered throatily, nose tracing the curve of her ear.

“What if I want to see the theatre?”

“I’m down for roleplay.”

Scylla chuckled, patting her cheek, “We have to leave soon.”

With a resigned sigh, Raelle stepped back, reaching around her to pluck up the glass resting on the small dresser and taking a sip of the clear liquid, “Can we leave early, at least?”

“We’ll talk at intermission.”

“There’s an intermission?”

Scylla turned around and snagged the glass from her, setting it aside and plucking up a small black piece of fabric.

Raelle recoiled, “No.”

“Raelle,”

“No, Scyl.” She stepped back, “Drawing the line here.”

Scylla grabbed the lapel of her jacket and pulled her in, “Stop. You’ll look great.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is you sneaking into the neighbor’s yard to steal a flower.”

“My wife deserved a flower, and they weren’t using it.” A shrug as Scylla flipped up her collar and artfully looped the shiny midnight black material around her neck, “Not like they found out.”

Scylla shot her a look - they had found out - “And next time your daughter stumbles into someone else’s yard?”

“She better be getting something nice for Allison.” Raelle replied.

“No, Raelle.”

“And,” Raelle continued, “she better not get caught.” Her voice rose, “You hear that, Hen!”

Henley startled, tripping into the door and nearly falling down as it swung away under her weight.

Scylla finished tying the bowtie, giving her wife’s chest a short pat, “Be nice to your daughter.”

“I am nice.” 

Scylla glanced over at the teenager as Raelle fumbled with the bowtie, pretending to straighten it but only making it extremely crooked. “Hey, Hen.”

“Hi, Mom.” she gave a brief wave, “You two ready for your date?”

Scylla nodded as Raelle mumbled under her breath. A sun-kissed hand shot out and smacked Raelle’s fingers away from the bowtie, “Almost. Your mama is a bit slow tonight. Is Allison coming over?”

Henley nodded, her face lighting up at the thought of her girlfriend, “Yeah. In a few minutes. We’re going to watch some romantic comedy movie. Maybe go for a walk. I promise we won’t go far.”

Raelle fiddled with the sleeves of her jacket and plucked up the glass, taking another healthy swallow, “Ain’t that far from the living room to your bedroom.”

The smack to her stomach was swift and fierce, causing her to choke.

Henley’s face burned.

“Ignore your mama, she’s nervous because she has to pretend to be civilized for a few hours.” Scylla stepped into her heels, “What she meant to say, was that we’d appreciate it if you didn’t make us grandparents just yet. Or make us plan a wedding.”

“Mom!” 

Raelle’s eyes sparkled as she watched Scylla, “I love you.”

“Mama!” Henley glared at them both, her mouth unable to not smile.

Raelle shrugged, “What? She’s right. Remember, Henley, your mom is always right. Except for our anniversary date. And, if Collars get hungover.”

“Finish that glass of moonshine and tell me how you feel tomorrow.” Scylla fixed her wife’s bowtie. “Do not touch this.”

With timing sent from the goddess herself, there was a knock at the downstairs front door. 

Henley looked back and forth between them, “Please, do not say...any of that to her.”

“Go let green eyes in.” Raelle waved at the door, her entire focus sliding over to Scylla as she stood tall, outfit complete. 

“You sure we can’t skip?” Henley heard her mama utter as she ducked out of the bedroom and toward the stairs, bounding down them, hitting the squeaky step hard, and careening to the door. She slowed herself a few feet away, smoothing out any wrinkles from her shirt and taking a deep fortifying breath, swallowing against the fluttering in her belly and the way her chest felt light, like someone had lifted up a giant boulder and tossed it away. Wiping her hand across her face, she swung open the door.

There, haloed in the gloriously blazing pinks and yellows of the setting sun, glittering green eyes that reminded her of springtime and endless fields at daybreak met her stunned blues, a heart-stoppingly sweet smile directed at her on winsome lips.

Henley’s mouth curved up into a deliriously dazed grin.

“Hey, Henley.” Allison leaned in and kissed her cheek.

“Hey, hi, hello.” Henley stammered.

Allison shook her head in amusement, “Hi.”

“Hi.” she was so pretty.

Allison giggled, “Hi.”

“Hi.” Raelle piped up from behind her daughter.

Henley blinked out of her haze as Allison peeked over her shoulder, “Hi, Mrs. and Mrs. Ramshorn-Collar.”

“Henley, is Allison coming in or are you two leaving?” Scylla asked, subtly shooting her child a look.

“Right, yeah.” Henley stepped aside, letting Allison walk in, “You guys remember Allison, right?”

“Green eyes.” Raelle nodded, blindly taking Scylla’s clutch and jacket from her, tucking the clutch under her arm and opening up the jacket, holding it out for her to slide into, “You want to go to the theatre? I hear it’s what the cool kids are doing.”

“No thanks, Mrs. Ramshorn-Collar.”

Raelle exhaled loudly, handing back the clutch, “Damn it.”

“You two look very nice, though.” Allison took Henley’s hand, giving it a squeeze. She quickly reached up, swiping away the smudge of sticky purplish jelly on her cheek.

Henley’s grin almost hurt it was so big.

“Supposedly this is what people wear to sit in a dark room for hours watching people talk.” Raelle replied. She smirked, “My wife looks amazing, though. Have you met my wife?”

“Mom.” Henley groaned.

Scylla looped her arm around Raelle’s, “Ok, that’s enough. Let’s go. We’re already going to be late.”

“If we’re already going to be late…”

“We’re still going.” Scylla pecked her cheek, whispering, “Keep the bowtie on, and we can leave early. Have that other show you were talking about.”

Raelle rocked on her feet, “Yes, ma’am. Time to go. Be good, kids. Don’t break anything. Allison, let me know if my kid doesn’t walk you home.”

Allison nodded with an affectionate smile as Henley dropped her head, “She always does, Mrs. Ramshorn.”

“You have the number for the theatre if you need to call us.” Scylla patted Henley’s arm as they walked past the younger couple, “Nice to see you, Allison.”

“You too, Mrs. Ramshorn-Collar.”

Raelle stepped across the threshold, Scylla ducking behind her to grab the keys from the bowl, and the pair were gone, walking to the car parked in the driveway, Scylla snorting as Raelle opened the passenger door for her with a flourish, arms flapping wildly with a bow.

Allison peeked at Henley, “I like your parents.”

“Yeah, me too.” Henley gave a tiny bounce on the balls of her feet, “They like you.”

They smiled at each other.

After a moment Henley bit her lip, “Movie?”

Allison took her other hand, holding both gently in her grasp, “Or, we could go to your room.” She ran the pad of her thumb soothingly along the back of Henley’s hands, “If you want to. No pressure.”

Henley gulped, “No...yeah...let’s go.”

Allison lifted up both of her hands, pressing kisses back and forth to her knuckles, “Ok, let’s go.”

The older girl waited patiently as Henley took a moment before leading her toward the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bumping the chapter count from 9 to 10 because there may be another chapter. Not sure it's worth posting. Anyhoo...hope you enjoyed this one.


	10. Doubtful Drinks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scylla stirred the little plastic stick around and around, watching the speared cherry dance in the whirlpool and the smoothly bittersweet liquor slosh to dot the curve of the glass. She ignored the bodies uncomfortably pressed up beside and behind her, keeping her eyes focused on the swirl of the whiskey and dry vermouth. 
> 
> Letting out a sigh, she brought the stick up to her mouth and wrapped her lips around the cherry, slowly sliding it off and chewing absentmindedly.
> 
> The music was just this side of too loud and the bar was busy enough that sweat was starting to cling to the back of her neck. Abrupt laughter mixed with the clinking of ice and various chatter.
> 
> She set the stick down on the bar and picked up her drink, taking a sip and savoring the manhattan. If anything, they made decent drinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after Cession Champagne but before Baby Buzz.

Scylla stirred the little plastic stick around and around, watching the speared cherry dance in the whirlpool and the smoothly bittersweet liquor slosh to dot the curve of the glass. She ignored the bodies uncomfortably pressed up beside and behind her, keeping her eyes focused on the swirl of the whiskey and dry vermouth. 

Letting out a sigh, she brought the stick up to her mouth and wrapped her lips around the cherry, slowly sliding it off and chewing absentmindedly.

The music was just this side of too loud and the bar was busy enough that sweat was starting to cling to the back of her neck. Abrupt laughter mixed with the clinking of ice and various chatter.

She set the stick down on the bar and picked up her drink, taking a sip and savoring the manhattan. If anything, they made decent drinks.

That was about all it had going for it at the moment.

She’d had a long day.

A long couple of months, really.

She just wanted to go home, curl up in bed with her book, actually curl up in her wife’s arms, and relax.

Her wife.

Licking the slightly sweet cherry taste from her lips, Scylla fought the urge to look at her watch. Raelle had called an hour ago, asking her to meet at the more high end bar in Salem. She and her team had finally finished a project as part of the final reorganization of the entire medical division at Fort Salem, and a celebration was in order.

It was about damn time.

The project had taken up all of Raelle’s focus and energy.

All of it.

It was hard enough sharing Raelle with the army. It was downright miserable to have Raelle not even come home some nights because she was too busy, choosing to get a crick in her neck because she fell asleep at her barely serviceable desk in her closet sized office at the infirmary than make the trek home for a few moments only to turn around and drag herself back to base.

A home they’d shared as a married couple for barely a tick of the clock before Raelle was gone, the project landing on her desk, orders clear and irrefutably unignorable the day the blonde reported back from her honeymoon.

A subtle reminder that, even with the ring on her finger, the medal around her neck came first in the eyes of her superiors.

But, the tired yet elated call made it seem as if that was all over.

At least, for now.

Until the army decided they needed Raelle to do something else for them. Make another sacrifice.

Scylla pursed her lips.

She knew what she signed up for when she said yes. She accepted Raelle. She didn’t blame her wife. They’d worked through it. Long arduous nights that could be painful, voices rising and breaking, feet walking away but always coming back, hands always seeking the other’s out.

Three small words never held back. Both needing to hear them, say them. Both understanding the power they held.

Both choosing the only option either of their hearts could imagine. Working it out together because a life without the other wasn’t a life at all.

Scylla listened and debated and fought, but she accepted Raelle the same as Raelle accepted her. Saw the blonde and was seen in return.

Said yes when her sweet girlfriend asked to marry her because happiness came in the form of a fixer with a penchant for moonshine and an inability to stay away from trouble.

They were married. They were together. They still loved each other.

But, goddess, sometimes it was hard.

In the back of her mind the little voice that spoke up late at night when Scylla was alone imagined receiving the news that Raelle was being deployed.

That Raelle was hurt.

That Raelle wasn’t ever coming back home.

Shaking away those thoughts, she took another sip of her drink.

They were meant to be celebrating, after all. 

And, Scylla knew Raelle wanted to stay with her. Be with her. She knew things had changed, somewhat. The army had changed under the leadership installed post-Alder. That their friends, their family, were keeping an eye out for the blonde. 

Most days, that was enough. Most days, she was happy. Content. Building a future with the woman she loved. The woman who loved her.

But, some nights, the voice still appeared. Mocking her with visions of empty caskets and dreaded memories of coffee shop confessions and broken promises. Of bird foot charms and the door closing behind her lover as she walked away. 

Unconsciously touching her ring, Scylla pushed away those thoughts. She cleared her head, taking a sip of her drink and trying to make out what new pop song was crackling from the speakers, waiting on her wife to show up and put her out of her misery of crushing sweaty bodies and annoying pick up lines that wouldn’t have worked even if Scylla was single.

Which she wasn’t.

Speaking of which, she felt a body approach. Could sense the shift in air, the intent of her pursuer.

If one more person hit on her, she was not responsible for her drink ending up in their face.

Or worse.

It was getting a bit ridiculous.

She knew Beltane was in the air, but this was borderline comical.

She wasn’t even overly dressed up, still wearing the clothes she went to work in that day. Her hair up in a ponytail, loose dark brown locks from her weary day curling around to frame her face.

Calloused fingers slid low across her back, tickling the hem of her shirt, and a disheveled blonde, rumpled uniform jacket open to reveal the medal hanging between her breasts and a charmingly debonair grin, lopsided yet shimmering with adoring intent, sidled up beside her, bright baby blue eyes dancing in the dim lights like fireflies in a country field, glimmering like the stars on a clear Cession summer night.

“Hey,”

Scylla raised an eyebrow at the raspy voice, “Hi.”

Those blue eyes drifted down her body before slowly making their way back up, glistening with appreciation, “I know you must hear this all the time, Miss, but you are the prettiest gal around.”

“Oh?” Scylla smirked, rubbing the stem of her glass between her thumb and forefinger, waiting to see where this was going. 

“Yes, ma’am.” She rested her side against the bar, full focus on the brunette, smile as much of a drawl as her southern cession accent, “Might even say the whole world, if that ain’t too forward.”

“And, you’ve seen the entire world?”

“Enough to know there’s nothin’ else I’d rather see than you smile.”

Wow. Scylla chuckled, biting her bottom lip, “You think you’re smooth, don’t you?”

“No...jus’ saw a pretty girl an’ thought I’d say hi.” She pressed a bit closer. 

“Hi.”

“Hi, hey, hello.” Her body rocked a bit, “Sure would like to dance with you.”

“What makes you think I’d dance with you?”

“Hope.” She held her hand out in the breathless space between them, palm up, “Dance with me?”

“I’m married.”

Her hand didn’t drop, “Yeah?”

Scylla hummed and flashed her ring.

“Would you look at that.” the soldier nudged closer. She gently took Scylla’s hand, tracing the length of her finger before tapping the small band, “Hope your wife knows how lucky she is.”

“She might.”

“You know, someone like you deserves better than sitting by yourself at a bar on a Friday night.”

“What do I deserve?”

She brought her hand to her lips, kissing her ring, “Let me show you.”

“Captain, stop hitting on your wife!” Sgt. Larson swept behind them and waived to get the bartender’s attention, “I need two ales, a vodka tonic, and three whatever you have on draft.”

“But, she’s so pretty.” Raelle shot back as Scylla rolled her eyes.

“Hey RC, is that Necro?” another soldier, lieutenant bars on her shoulders, walked by. She turned her head toward a table that was being taken over by uniforms, “RC’s better half showed up!”

“Ok,” Raelle pushed away from the bar, “Let’s go.”

“Go?” Scylla allowed herself to be tugged away from her spot.

Raelle nodded, “Yeah.”

“You’re leaving?” Larson asked.

Raelle ignored her, leaning into Scylla, “Come with me?”

“What about…”

“I see them all the time.” Raelle ran the pad of her thumb along Scylla’s fingers, “Please? I miss you.” She winked, “Live a little.”

They’d both been miserable during the project.

Scylla checked one more time, “Are you sure?”

This was meant to be a celebration with Raelle’s staff.

“More than anything.” all her eyes could see, the only thing that existed in that moment, was the girl with a simple band on her left ring finger and a voice Raelle could never get tired of hearing no matter if she lived for one more second or one hundred more years.

Scylla smiled, “Lead the way, Captain Collar.”

“Ramshorn-Collar, and yes, ma’am.” their hands stayed linked as they worked through the crowd, Raelle barely tossing a quick goodbye to her staff before diving through the door and into the sultry spring air. 

It was warm, spring feeling like summer, humidity creeping in and making the local businesses turn on their air conditioning. A few clouds floated high overhead. The feel of electricity thrummed in the darkened air, sparking with desires that Belatne stirred deep within every witch's soul.

They only made it a handful of steps away from the bar before Scylla pulled her girlfriend down a short side alley and into a kiss that had them both melting into the touch, hands cradling elegant cheeks and grasping the back of a jacket.

Goddess, it had been far too long.

Scylla could taste bourbon on her girl’s tongue, decadent and sharp. The soldiers must have had a few sips before rolling out to the nearest bar, celebration starting on base.

She couldn’t be surprised.

Her hand tightened its hold as Raelle nipped tenderly at her bottom lip, backing her up against the nearby brick wall. Hips slotted against her own, mouth devouring and cherishing hers with a barely tempered urgency. The familiar want, need, was like a wildfire, kindling into an undeniable flame that burned in her veins and had her stomach clenching as Raelle pushed in impossibly closer.

Her body ached to feel skin against skin, to taste and touch and lose herself in the feel of passionate kisses and feverishly gasped vows that drove her closer to an oblivion of sated love than any swipe of a tongue or slick coated thrust.

One hand cradling Scylla’s head, thumb pressed into the swell of her jaw and fingertips tickling the back of her neck, Raelle slowly slid her other palm down Scylla’s side, teasing the hem of her shirt, dipping underneath to caressing the sliver of skin where the top of her slacks ended.

“You’re so beautiful.” Raelle whispered, diving in for another kiss, “So damn beautiful.”

Scylla clenched the back of Raelle’s jacket tighter, grabbing at her shoulder, “Not too bad yourself.”

She rubbed her thumb across a smooth belly, “You’re my wife. I married you.”

Scylla smirked against her lips, “Yeah, you did.”

“Best decision ever.”

Scylla huffed a laugh, “Not setting the bar high there, honey.”

“So mean.” she exhaled softly, her kiss slowing down, turning tender, almost apologetic. 

Scylla released her grip, the fever gradually lulling as the furiously feverish kisses became unspoken words, not desirous touches conveying quick and dirty want but, instead, drawn out emotional embraces that said what voices hadn’t. Dulling the raging inferno down to crackling embers. 

“I’m sorry,” Raelle finally confessed. She lightly massaged the tiny baby hairs at the nape of her wife’s neck with the tips of her fingers, thumb caressing her cheekbone as they slowly broke apart, foreheads coming together, “I missed you so much.”

“It’s ok.” Scylla promised, kissing the corner of her mouth, “I missed you, too.”

“No, it’s not. I married you, and then I’m not even here. I told you…”

“Raelle,” Scylla interrupted her, “it’s ok.”

“Runaway with me.”

Scylla’s brows knitted in confusion as she smiled, their noses brushing delicately, “What?”

“Let’s run away.” Raelle’s words tickled her lips, “We can go to the beach.”

Scylla’s hand drifted, stumbling onto chipped metal. She skimmed along the chain looped around her wife’s neck before giving it a light tug, “Leave your medal hanging on the door?”

“Let the birds sing our goodbyes,” a smirk brushed against her mouth before, without warning, arms wrapped around Scylla’s waist, lifting her up and spinning them both.

A burst of laughter spilled out, lighting up the night, as Scylla clung to her shoulders. “Raelle!”

“Push ups, baby.” a wink. She stopped spinning, holding up the brunette, head tilted back as she stared up into deep blue eyes, “Have to make sure they’re useful for something.”

“I thought it was to try to seduce me in the morning.” Scylla teased. “Best part of my day.” 

Raelle carefully set her back on her feet, hands settling on her hips, “Let’s go. Right now.”

Wait, “You’re serious?”

“As serious as I am that I love you.” She squeezed her hips, “Can watch the boats. Go back to where we were. The cabin from before.”

Where they stayed for their honeymoon.

It sounded perfect.

So damn perfect.

Scylla sucked in her bottom lip, “Did you get leave?”

“Who cares?” Raelle’s palms slid up, slipping under her shirt and coming to rest on her sides, “I want to be with you. I don’t care about anything else.” There was a muted desperation in her eyes. Strong yet not breaking through completely, locked down behind walls and barriers she’d erected long ago, over many years, behind equal parts temper and apathy.

Scylla sighed, concern sparking inside.Where was this coming from? “Rae, baby.”

“We can be at the beach by morning.” 

Something was bothering Raelle. 

Scylla rubbed her impulsive wife’s back, “You know we can’t.”

That hurt to say. More than she expected.

“Yes, we can.”

“Raelle,” the blonde would surely get in trouble if she left without permission. And Raelle, for all her bluster and independence, still adhered to protocol...most of the time. While Scylla could get away with a short notice to her job, Raelle couldn’t. 

They would need to plan. 

Something that tended to be more of Scylla’s strength out of the two.

Yet, even so, Raelle’s sudden urge to...go...made Scylla try to search her eyes. Listen to the cadence of her voice and want to feel the staccato of her heart. 

She would run away with Raelle, if that’s what the blonde truly wanted. Would get them both in a car and be as far away from army bases and overhanging threats of deployment before the fixer’s fellow officers could even notice one of their brethren was missing.

But, this want to leave was so sudden, so unexpected, so without warning, Scylla tempered her own desire to agree to it.

Raelle was not a blind follower of military propaganda, but she wasn’t one to up and leave.

Not when her sense of loyalty still buzzed within her soul.

Raelle exhaled heavily, “I want to swim in the ocean with you.” Her hands slid back down to her hips, “I want to kiss you when you smile.”

Well, fuck.

“Rae,”

“I know.” A deep breath, “At least dance with me.”

“There’s no music.”

Raelle began to hum. Broken bars melding together into a strange slow melody. Scylla let her head fall back for a moment, smile overwhelming at the antics, before returning her eyes to the younger witch’s, “You’re such a dork.”

“You’re gorgeous,” she eased her away from the wall, their bodies remaining pressed together, “I can’t believe I get to spend my whole life with you.” They began to sway back and forth in the dim light of the nearby streetlamp, oblivious to the crowds and traffic close by. 

Scylla rubbed the crook of her neck, moving up to cup the side of her throat, “Are you going to spend it at home tonight?” She bit her lip as the words rang in her ear, “I’m sorry, I…”

“Yes,” Raelle cut her off. She kissed her, “Every night. I’m going to spend every night with you, as long as you want me.”

“I always want you.”

“Guess you get me every night, then.”

“What else do I get?”

“Anything.” Raelle squeezed her hips, “Whatever you want, Scyl.”

“I want you.”

“You have me. Always. No matter what.” Her eyes dropped guiltily, “I know I haven’t been around.”

There it was, “Rae,”

“It’s true.” Raelle forged on, jaw ticking with regret, “I love you and I...you’re the most important thing in my life. I don’t want you to...to ever think I don’t want you. That I don’t want to always be with you. That you don’t come _first_ for me.”

“I don’t.” she soothed. “I don’t think that.”

She knew Raelle loved her.

It wasn’t always Raelle’s decision, though.

Raelle swallowed thickly, “I look at you, and I see forever.”

Scylla clenched her jaw at the bubble of emotions welling up in her chest and the back of her throat.

“You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.” Raelle blinked away the sheen forming in her suddenly troubled eyes, “I promised to always be here for you. To be with you.”

“I believe you. I know. You are.”

“Sometimes...sometimes I think about us. About...about what our lives can be like. Together. What I...would love more than anything to do with you. Share with you. Sometimes I look at you and…” she shrugged her voice trailing off in frustration, unable to properly put into words the feelings residing deep inside of her. Feelings around a future she so desperately dreamed of sharing with her wife. A future that was tauntingly held out of reach the moment she reported back to Fort Salem. When she barely had time to drop a photo from her wedding on her desk before she was whisked away to oversee a job that left her spending long minutes late at night staring at that lone picture, remember what it was like to see Scylla walk towards her, to slide a ring on her finger, to have one slid onto her own. When it got really late at night, and her eyes got blurry and words became jumbled messes on her memos, she almost saw another photo next to the one of a smiling couple. One of a family she only hoped for in secret. Hoped for in a way she hadn’t hoped for anything other than the woman currently in her arms.

A woman who she missed so much.

A woman who, on the darkest of days, Raelle wonder if she was even real. If any of this was real.

Or, if it was all a fever dream and she was still back in the desert, blood pooled beneath the hand on her chest, mind conjuring up comforting images to help her give in to the pull of the otherworld.

Maybe this was the other side.

Maybe she never woke up.

“Hey,” Scylla tapped near her pulse point, feeling the strong steady beat near her fingertips, “I love you, too. I know you’ve been busy. I understand. I do. It’s ok. _We’re ok._ ”

Raelle, smile tremulous, finally met her gaze, “Always making everything ok.”

Scylla kissed her, “Let’s go home.”

“I like the sound of that.” their gentle swaying slowed to a stop.

“Wait till you see what happens when we get home.” it had been too long since they touched, and the current in the air ignited already burning desires.

The thread that wrapped around them, between them, that called for them to find themselves in each other, the way they always had, the way they always would, a strong unit of two halves of a whole, the reminder to the other that they were not alone, tightened its invisible hold. Relayed a message along its invisible length. Reminded them of what the rings at each end of the thread symbolized.

That they were loved.

Raelle smirked, “I could use a little sass in my life.”

“You think you’re going to get sass?”

“Have you met my wife?”

“How many times are you going to say that?”

Raelle kissed her forehead, letting her lips linger, “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, there you have it! Let me know what you think, (pretty please). A giant thanks to everyone who read this update. A giant thanks plus another huge thank you to those who stuck around and read this entire series. Double kudos if you left/leave a kudos, and all of that plus a virtual social distance hug if you leave a comment.


	11. Runner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Raelle?” Scylla shook her head, shooting her a confused look as she started walking again. 
> 
> What was she doing there?
> 
> Raelle straightened her stance, sending her a wink and a grin, “Hey, Prof. Ramshorn-Collar.” She tossed the apple up in the air, keeping her eyes on Scylla as she caught it.
> 
> “Do not throw that at me.” Scylla warned, reaching the last two steps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place before Baby Buzz.

Shouldering her bag, Scylla took one last look at her desk, ticking off in her mind everything she would need to take home with her. The overstuffed messenger bag strained under the pressure of the heavy ancient books and abundance of pens, notes, and random odds and ends that somehow ended up in the pockets.

She still had no idea how Raelle’s keys ended up in there...more times than she could count.

They really needed to come up with a better system for her wife to keep track of her keys.

Nodding to herself, she hefted the strap further up, letting the sturdy leather rest against the curve of her throat and stepped around her desk. The sun glimmered through her open window, and she made her way over to it, sliding around the visitor chair a student had flopped down in a few minutes earlier, class notes in hand and a befuddled look on her face about the notion of a bird actually being swallowed by a dead person and later flying away.

A dead person swallowing anything was strange.

It being a bird who allowed the dead person to talk and then flew away like nothing happened had the student blinking dazedly and scanning her scribbles like they were hieroglyphics translated into mother tongue translated into Greek.

It took a few minutes, but the young witch started to grasp the idea. 

Her mind would be blown when they went to the lab later that semester, closer to Samhain, to see a demonstration.

Scylla shut the window and twirled the thin plastic stick hanging down from the frame, flipping the blinds closed. 

Turning back to her desk, she paused as her eyes landed on the photos bunched near one corner, almost blocked from sight by a stack of research papers and the draft of a textbook a colleague wanted her opinion on.

Her and Raelle’s smiling faces beamed back at her.

Raelle looked dashing in her dress uniform, more polished than she had ever looked in her life, yet the lazy grin was full of moonshine and unadulterated love. Her buttons and medals shined almost as brightly as the tilt of her lips as she nuzzled close to Scylla. Hands clasped together, her arm was wrapped around Scylla’s waist, nose nuzzling the apple of Scylla’s cheek while her deliriously charming smile brushed the corner of the brunette’s mouth. Scylla, draped in white, held her close, arm slung over Raelle’s shoulder, hand nestled against the nape of her neck, softly playing with the tiny hairs beneath golden braids, face dipping towards her wife’s, her own smile gentle and content.

Happy.

She was happy.

They were happy.

A gift from Glory, who had captured the photo of them dancing together for the obligatory first dance that Raelle had pretended not to be freaking out about for weeks before the ceremony. Byron supposedly helped her practice, but Raelle adamantly vowed she could dance and didn’t need help sweeping her wife off her feet and around the dance floor. She was a Collar. She could dance. 

Byron’s look matched with his tale that had Raelle so nervous that she couldn’t keep a beat and face planted twice by somehow tripping over her own feet made Scylla think there was more to Raelle randomly disappearing one weekend to go hang out with Byron and help him set up his new television set then the blonde originally let on.

Especially if the boy could have had a strong handsome tech from the store do it for him.

Biting her lip, Scylla let her gaze soak in the photo and the memories it unlocked. She never thought she would be the type of person to put pictures of people on her desk.

She never thought she was the type of person to be married. To have a wife. To be a part of a family of friends.

She never thought she would have any of this.

Not when she was moving from house to house with her parents. Not when she learned the words of the Spree. Not when she held Raelle close at the Bellweather wedding with the chiming of a clock thundering in her ear. Not when Anacostia approached her, subdued, the news of a mission to China sending the witch spiraling. 

Yet, there she was. About to walk out of her office, the brass name plate telling all who passed by that Prof. Ramshorn-Collar could be found within the tiny space, surrounded by as much literature as could be found on necromancy, many of the newest editions written or advised on by her. One of the most coveted instructors on campus. 

There she was, a bag full of notes and books, staring at a photo from her wedding day. 

There she was.

The other frame held a photo that always made her laugh and roll her eyes. 

One day she had shown up in her office, and, there it was, displayed proudly for all to see.

What a coincidence it was the day Byron had dropped by, wasting time while Raelle taught her own introductory course at Fort Salem, the man kicked out of the training rooms until he wasn’t distracting the new recruits fresh off the bus and shameless enough to stare at the boy without a care in the world about how they were supposed to learn a way to save their own lives.

Byron was much too amused by it all.

The photo was another from their wedding. Raelle was bunched up next to Byron, the two smooshed together in the frame, the blonde more teetering than tall, undoubtedly the friends clutching each other so they wouldn’t collapse under the weight of the moonshine and champagne they’d consumed. Knowing her wife, Raelle was already well passed sober and about to topple beyond drunken rambling to dozing off, cushioned by a Scylla shaped pillow. Some of her staff were behind them, mugging for the camera, eyes wide and mouths open, drinks clearly in hand. Raelle had her left hand shoved out, the simple gold band the center of the frame. Byron’s shocked look was dramatic enough to win him a spot in the next Shakespeare production, his thin finger pointed crazily at the ring while Raelle did the same, the smug delight rolling off her in waves as she showed off the symbol of her officially becoming a Ramshorn-Collar.

Goddess, those two together were always trouble.

With a tiny exasperated huff, Scylla picked her way around the second chair and the pile of equipment her lab course would be using the following month and slipped out of the office, flicking off the lights as she did so. She quietly locked up and dropped the keys in her bag.

A few students nodded in greeting, one waving, as she strolled down the hallway, the watch strapped to her wrist telling her the early afternoon classes would just be starting. Most students would already be in their lecture halls or classrooms, if they had a class at that time, or bolting out of the cafeteria, if they weren’t lounging in their dorm rooms or sneaking out into town, skipping the long lectures and setting their sights on the nearby park or one of the shops in town.

The further Scylla walked down the hall and toward the double doors leading outside, the more she felt her shoulders relax and a spring enter her step.

An entire week.

Raelle had gotten leave for an entire week. 

Finally. 

It had taken a lot of work. Petra and her fellow high ranking officers had been wary about letting Raelle take time away. Raelle might run the fixer department, but she was still just a captain. A captain with no discernible name or matriline. She didn’t have the sway others might have in granting herself permission to go away. 

Outside of her own specialty, she didn’t have much sway at all.

But, they had gotten the reprieve and immediately started planning.

A trip up to a cabin, away from work and worries and responsibilities, called to them. It took planning and patience and a few late nights for both of them, Scylla at the kitchen table, writing as fast as she could between sips of strong black tea, Raelle on base, sometimes nodding off on her rickety old desk. But, here they were. Ready to take time away.

Escape.

Be Raelle and Scylla.

Goddess, it felt like years since their wedding day. Since they were able to be alone on their honeymoon, laying out on the beach, sharing sips of champagne and sun soaked kisses.

The beach.

They had finally made it to the beach. 

Her thumb unconsciously touched her ring, rubbing soothingly along the smooth slope resting comfortably, a subtle weight that was always there, sometimes forgotten, but never gone.

Hopefully this vacation would be relaxing. Calm. Uninterrupted.

A peaceful bit of unwinding for the both of them.

Scylla really just wanted to hold Raelle in her arms and forget the rest of the world existed. Curl up together and count the stars. Watch the way Raelle’s blue eyes changed color as Scylla hovered over her, tasting the cut of her collar, tongue soothing and lips dipping lower. Feel her breath catch as Raelle mapped out the constellation of freckles painting her body for hours. Wake up long after the sun had risen. Be lazy, taking their time making meals, sitting outside cuddled up, talking softly or Raelle tenderly playing with Scylla’s hair while the brunette read a book that Abigail had recommended. 

Being together.

She snagged her bottom lip between her teeth. Married, and she’d barely seen her wife since they returned from the beach. Work taking them both away, Raelle chained down more than ever, Scylla opting to conduct more research instead of wait at home, wondering when Raelle would stumble through the door to their apartment, exhausted and barely able to remember to grab her keys from the front door lock before blindly kissing Scylla’s cheek and crashing into bed.

Raelle had thought that, once the department was rebuilt, reached a viable working status, her responsibilities would dwindle.

They’d only gotten worse.

The army reminding them both who Raelle truly belonged to the longer she had that medal hung around her neck.

And, the looming threat of deployment always hovering just out of sight but never out of mind. A storm that electrified the air, causing the hairs on her arm to stand up even though there was nothing to see.

Not yet.

Merely waiting for it to roll in, blotting out the light and swallowing the calm in a swirling crash of unavoidable stress and danger that neither could do anything but give in to. 

This was their life.

Scylla loved her wife. More than anything.

But, sometimes it was hard.

Would it always be like this? Until they were both old and grey? 

Pushing through the double doors, Scylla lifted her hand, blocking out the flash of blindingly bright sunlight streaming down from the cloudless sky.

No storm on the horizon. Not this week.

Pacing forward toward the small set of stairs leading down from the building to the paved path below, she stopped.

Wait.

The smile formed before she even fully processed what was in front of her.

Raelle stood at the bottom of the steps, casually leaning against the end of the handrail, blithely tossing a ruby red apple up and down, a small game of catch with herself. She wasn’t in her uniform, somehow having changed into a pair of loose fitting jeans and a flannel shirt buttoned up to cover the scar adorning her chest like a streak of lightning. Her medal was visible, landing just between her breasts, the bronze always prominent no matter what it was paired with, the sun reflecting like a flame along the blade of a knife.

“Raelle?” Scylla shook her head, shooting her a confused look as she started walking again. 

What was she doing there?

Raelle straightened her stance, sending her a wink and a grin, “Hey, Prof. Ramshorn-Collar.” She tossed the apple up in the air, keeping her eyes on Scylla as she caught it.

“Do not throw that at me.” Scylla warned, reaching the last two steps.

A saucy eyebrow quirked slyly, “Would you catch it?”

That earned her another look before Scylla reached the bottom of the steps. 

Raelle shined the apple on her shirt with a few quick strokes before offering it with a flourish, “Heard teachers are supposed to be given one of these.”

“By their students.”

“I’m up for a little roleplay.” 

A hard roll of the eyes accompanied a swift grab of the apple. The fruit was unceremoniously dropped into the bulging bag, “You’d have to actually have the grades for my class, Collar, and we both know you weren’t a model student.”

“Ramshorn-Collar.” A shrug as she stepped forward, lightly grasping her hips, “Not opposed to some tutoring. Maybe I just haven’t had the right...incentive, yet.” 

“What sort of...incentive...are you looking for?”

“Can’t be sure. Should test a few kinds out. See what sticks.” Her voice dropped as her grin flickered into a smirk, “Wouldn’t mind starting on my knees with you lookin’ as pretty as you did on our wedding night.”

Scylla bit back a shiver and pressed her hand against Raelle’s heart, soft flannel bunching between her fingers and padding her fingertips. She leaned in, dragging her lips across Raelle’s ear, “Extra credit if you don’t be a tease.”

Raelle gulped, fighting to keep her voice steady, “You like being teased.”

Scylla nipped the shell of her ear, “That’s you, baby.” She pulled back, patting Raelle’s chest, “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

Raelle blinked, “W-What?”

“Work?” Scylla dropped her hand, palm instantly meeting Raelle's, their fingers tangling together effortlessly, “You should be at Fort Salem right now, Rae. We’re meeting at home. This evening.”

Hours from now.

“Oh,” Raelle squeezed her hand, “Thought I’d get you to play hooky with me.”

“Hooky?”

“Yes, ma’am.” She tugged Scylla toward the parking area, “Come skip school with me. I promise to take you somewhere nice.”

“My classes are done for the day. It’s not hooky if I already went to class.”

“Then be the bad influence we both know you are and help me skip class. Live a little.”

“I’m the bad influence?” They walked slowly along the path, joined hands swinging gently between them.

Raelle hummed, “Had me late for third bell so many times.”

“Not my fault you couldn’t run fast enough.”

“Your fault you looked so damn gorgeous I couldn't leave.” Raelle carefully reached for the heavy strap and eased it off Scylla’s shoulder, dropping it onto her own, “Goddess, did you pack for our entire trip in this thing? Did you pack rocks?”

“School requires books, babe.”

“No wonder I skipped. Though, incentives…”

“Only work if you can keep up.” Scylla finished for her as they reached the car. She leaned her side against it as Raelle quickly opened up the backdoor and tossed the bag inside, closing it and turning to face the older witch.

“I missed you.” The blonde shuffled in, kissing her softly.

“I missed you, too.” fingers threaded into wheat colored locks.

Raelle’s eyes shimmered as she stood there, taking in every inch of the face that caused her heart to skip a beat. “We’re married.”

“We are.” She lightly scratched the back of the younger woman’s head.

Raelle’s smile wobbled for barely half a second before she grinned wider, “Ready to go?”

“Play hooky with my wife?” Scylla smirked and kissed the corner of her mouth, “I guess I can. Depends on if the sex is going to be any good.”

“So damn good you’ll be sassy for days.”

“Promises, promises.”

“Always want to keep my promises, baby.” Raelle whispered. “Always want everything with you.”

Scylla smiled against her mouth, “Take me away, Captain Collar.”

“Ramshorn-Collar.” Raelle kissed her before leaning back, “Run away with me?”

“Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait...wasn't this series over with? Jeez, what is going on?
> 
> High five for reading, kudos for leaving a kudos, hug for leaving a comment.


	12. Port

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The salty sweet air of the ocean tickled her nose, a light breeze ruffling the few silky brown strands of hair that had fallen loose from her messy ponytail, the natural mahogany waves as gentle as the tide that lapped at the shoreline, gloriously clear blue and white tipped water that beckoned to be waded in. Tiny seashells dotted the edge where land met sea, and the subtle hum of the earth lulled Scylla into a quiet sense of calm relaxation. The sand was soft and pliable beneath her towel, mother nature cradling her body as she slowly reclined on her elbows. Her marble hued skin was already turning a slight shade of pink. She would need to slather on more sunscreen soon before she burnt.
> 
> She did tend to burn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after Second Round.

The salty sweet air of the ocean tickled her nose, a light breeze ruffling the few silky brown strands of hair that had fallen loose from her messy ponytail, the natural mahogany waves as gentle as the tide that lapped at the shoreline, gloriously clear blue and white tipped water that beckoned to be waded in. Tiny seashells dotted the edge where land met sea, and the subtle hum of the earth lulled Scylla into a quiet sense of calm relaxation. The sand was soft and pliable beneath her towel, mother nature cradling her body as she slowly reclined on her elbows. Her marble hued skin was already turning a slight shade of pink. She would need to slather on more sunscreen soon before she burnt.

She did tend to burn.

The cooler next to her tempted her with melting ice cubes for her heated flesh and a cool drink, but she was distracted by the dozing woman spread out beside her. She tipped her head and peered over her sunglasses at the familiar face that belonged to the most handsomely gorgeous woman she had ever seen. Eyelashes fluttered with dreams and tiny breaths puffed from between pale pink lips. Wheat colored locks fluttered around a sun soaked face, the light shade of bronze painting the skin a balm to her heart, the paleness finally being replaced with a bit of life and healthful color, much more like her wife looked in old photos of her as a kid growing up in the Cession fields, always covered in dirt and a mischievous smirk in place, or whenever they would spend time with Edwin, the man always wanting to come visit his family but the couple knowing it was easier for them to travel, especially as the hardworking man grew older.

Her dark midnight blue eyes trailed down, admiring the way the light seemed to make Raelle glow where it met her skin. Her long sleeve shirt was bunched up lazily near her elbows, a small compromise with her body that now turned cold quickly, feeling ice even during the warmest of days. Scylla’s fingers twitched, filled with the urge to touch her, outline the constellation of beauty that rested before her.

“Wha’ ya lookin’ at?” Raelle mumbled, her lethargic drawl as adorable as the way her nose scrunched up when the wind teased it.

“You.” Scylla rolled over, gingerly crawling until she easily hovered over her, knees pressing into the towel beneath them on either side of Raelle’s hips. She slowly lowered her upper body, snagging the collar of the blonde’s shirt and smoothing her thumb along the patch of skin right above it. “You’re beautiful.”

“Yeah?” Raelle grinned, eyes still closed, “Careful. I’m married.”

“I think I can take her.”

“Have you met my wife?” Raelle hummed, “Sexy as hell and can totally kick my ass.”

Scylla chuckled, “That’s because you stopped doing pushups a long time ago.”

“‘M retired.” Raelle thumbed the cant of her hip, “And, I’m old.”

“Not that old.”

A smirk, “‘Old enough to know when a pretty woman is on top of me lookin’ like a goddess.”

“Have a lot of pretty women on top of you?” Scylla caressed the length of her throat, hesitating when she swept over her pulse point, allowing herself the tiny comfort of the steady beat signaling a heart. A beating heart.

“Only the prettiest.” 

“Here I thought you liked to be on top.”

“View’s nice from here.”

“Before or after you fall asleep _right after_?”

“You’re so mean.”

“Truth hurts.”

A pout, “Did we have sex and I forgot?”

“Not sass if it’s true, babe.”

“Don’t think that’s how it works.”

“How does it work?”

Raelle’s eyes slowly opened, “When two girls love each other very much…”

Scylla rolled her eyes, “Shut up.”

Raelle smirked, slipping her hand to nestle against the small of her back, luxuriating in the feel of the sun kissed skin under her palm, “Gonna make me?”

Scylla pushed her sunglasses to the crown of her head and leaned down, biting back her own smirk as she bypassed Raelle’s lips and kissed her cheek, “You should put on more sunscreen.”

“Not my fault you're so hot.”

She lightly kissed her cheek again, “You knew what you were marrying.”

“I did put a ring on it.”

“Sunscreen, Raelle.”

Raelle pouted, “Tease.”

Scylla brushed a few locks of hair from Raelle’s forehead, “You like it.”

“Love it.”

They both grew quiet. The faint singing of the ocean and the distant call of the boats sailing near the horizon buzzed around them, draping across their beings like a soft sunlit blanket of calm. Scylla stared down at her wife.

Her wife.

Raelle.

The woman she had almost lost twice.

Who she _had_ lost for a moment.

The scariest moment of her life. 

Sensing the change in mood, Raelle frowned, rubbing her back, “Scyl?”

Scylla offered a small smile, more tremulous than cheerful, “It’s fine.”

Raelle blinked, biting her lip and squinting in concern, “Tell me.” 

Scylla inhaled deeply, meeting Raelle’s gaze, feeling the blonde search for an answer as to what was wrong, silently offering her support. Cupping Raelle’s cheek, she ran the pad of her thumb along her cheekbone, “I like it here.”

“Me too.”

“We had our honeymoon here. We brought Henley here.”

“It’s nice.”

“It is. It’s very nice.” Scylla swallowed, “We always talked about going to the beach. Even when we were at Fort Salem. We’d go to the beach. Run away.”

“Let the birds sing our goodbyes.” Raelle smiled gently in remembrance.

Scylla nodded, “Yeah.”

Coming out of the memory, Raelle’s smile dipped, “We’re here, Scylla.”

“I know.” She steeled herself, “We’re here, Rae. _We’re here_.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

Scylla wet her lips, “We could stay.”

“Stay?”

“Yes. Stay.” The words were filled with a tendril of hope, beseeching, “We could stay here, Raelle.”

Raelle took a moment before it clicked, “Move here.”

“Yes.”

“But...we...we can’t move here.”

“Why not?” 

“We,” Raelle frowned to herself, “our house…”

“We can sell it. Buy something out here. Or rent.” Scylla held her face, her own flashing with emotion, “Something small. Big enough for the two of us. An extra room for when Henley visits. We could walk on the beach every day. Watch the boats. Relax.”

Raelle shook her head and pushed up on her elbows, forcing Scylla to rock back, “Your job...the clinic.”

“I can still teach. I’m mostly doing research right now, anyway. I can do that here. I can commute. You’ve talked about how your partners want to take over the clinic. You can hand it over. You can rest. Have a real retirement. I’m sure there are clinics around here if you really want to keep working. A small practice.”

“No, no Scylla.”

“Raelle,”

“ _No_.” the one word was said harsh enough to cause Scylla to grit her teeth.

“We have to talk about this, Raelle.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” She shifted her hips, motioning as if to get up.

Scylla held her in place, “You’re not well, Raelle.”

“I’m fine. I’m getting better.”

Scylla stared at her.

She wasn’t getting better.

“Byron has a friend who is into real estate. He thinks…”

“You talked to _Byron_ about this?”

“Yes, I talked to our _friend_ about options.”

Raelle rubbed at her face, “We’re not selling the house.”

“Raelle,”

“No, Scylla.” Her hand fell with a thump, eyes averted, “That’s...that’s our house. _Our house_.”

Scylla sucked in a breath.

The words hit her like a windstrike, brutal and all-consuming.

She knew it was their house.

Their house.

The house they bought once they fully left Fort Salem, once Raelle retired and all that went with it was left far behind.

The house that gave them a mortgage.

The house they moved to when they finally decided to have a family.

The house they raised Henley in.

The house they spent so much of their lives together in. Where they built a life together.

It was their home.

For a former dodger who never had a home and a witch who thought she’d die young, never fall in love and have that love returned, it was everything.

Pressing her hand against Raelle’s stomach to get her attention, Scylla stared into her eyes, “The house is too big for us.”

Raelle worked her jaw, clearly wanting to look away but unable to.

Scylla took a breath, forcing herself to be firm, “You’re using a cane right now, Raelle. You might have to use it forever. We have no idea when or if you’re going to get better or how much. You can’t keep trying to go up and down the stairs, and why keep the house if we’re not going to use most of it?”

They were the only ones there. The only ones using the upstairs rooms, and there was no way Scylla was going to keep sleeping in their bedroom if Raelle wasn’t. Couldn’t.

Raelle pursed her lips, cheeks heating up with bit back emotion.

Scylla curled her fingers into the younger woman’s shirt, “You’re not that old, Raelle, but, your body is right now. We can’t stay there. We both know it. Just like we both know you can’t keep working at the clinic like you were. Maybe consulting but...you can’t heal anyone. You can’t take on anymore.”

It was more than likely her body would give out, and Scylla was not going to take that chance.

Raelle rolled her shoulders, head dipping away. Scylla reached out, grasping her chin and guiding her back, “I love you. I am always going to love you. I want us to be together. That means making adjustments.”

Raelle’s jaw clenched, eyes wavering between steel and sky. Like the sand beneath them, brittle heat forcing them to turn to glass and the pressure of emotions leading them to shatter. 

“Please,” Scylla urged, “Don’t be stubborn about this, Raelle. Not this. Don’t make me lose you again.” The back of her throat itched and her belly felt heavy, “I never wanted to leave our home. You know that.” The weight in her belly filled her chest, “I’d rather have you than a house. You are more important than a house.”

Their house represented so many things Scylla had never even allowed herself to dream of when she was young, when she hid with her parents, never staying in one place too long, when she was Spree, focused on nothing but the mission, a bed little more than a place to sleep for a few hours.

The house wasn’t her family

The house wasn’t a home if Raelle couldn’t be there.

She wanted to be where Raelle was, whether it was a cottage on the beach or a tent on the side of the road.

She’d move back into the barracks, if she had to.

A faraway look clashed with the pleading undercurrent that tried to be strong but bore little more than fantasy hope and regret, “I can figure something out. I’ll get better. We’re not..I’m not making you leave our home. Not because of me.”

“You are not making me lose anything by moving. I’m keeping my wife. I’m getting my wife.” Scylla promised.

Raelle might know what a family home meant to Scylla, but she needed to be reminded that Scylla wasn’t in love with four walls and a roof. She was in love with the soul thrumming in the tired fixer with the roguish grin and a penchant for moonshine.

Remind Raelle that she wasn’t breaking a promise or failing by needing something different.

The fixer cracked with a shuddering breath, her head falling, leaning into Scylla’s chest, as her hands dug into the towel, gripping it so hard her knuckles turned deathly pale.

Scylla cradled the back of her head, pressing a kiss to her crown, holding her lips there as she felt Raelle valiantly suppress a quiver of tears. “I love you.”

Raelle dragged her right hand free, groping around until she caught Scylla’s left. 

Scylla squeezed her eyes shut as Raelle caressed her wedding ring. 

“I still expect you to dance with me in the moonlight and drunkenly propose to me.” Scylla whispered, voice fading as she felt a lump form in her throat, “And, if you don’t think I expect a ring made from...seaweed or seashells or something...have you met my wife?”

Raelle sniffed, words croaking, “So demanding.” She lifted her head, peering up at Scylla. 

Their gazes held, neither saying a word, the silence speaking for them.

Finally, Raelle gulped, lifting Scylla’s hand and bringing it to her mouth, her lips touching the gold band on her ring finger, “Think I might like to marry you.”

“If that’s your proposal, you need to work on it. I’ve heard better.”

Ralle choked out a laugh, “We might as well have sex if you’re going to be that sassy.”

Scylla’s mouth twitched, “Might as well.”

Raelle looked her up and down, eyes stopping on blue once again, “Anyone ever tell you you’re beautiful.”

“Once or twice.”

“Might like to show you how much you are.”

Scylla turned her hand curving her palm around Raelle’s jaw and pulling her up into a kiss, “Show me.” Kissing her long and slow and thoroughly, she murmured, “Think about it. Please.”

“Ok.” Raelle relented, drifting back as Scylla eased her down, “Ok.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adore all you readers. Double adore you folks who read and leave a kudos. Triple the adoration and add a lollipop for those who read and leave a comment.


	13. Sea Breeze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Didn’t hear you complaining.” Scylla kissed behind her ear.
> 
> “No, ma’am.” Raelle shivered at the touch, “Happy wife, happy life.”
> 
> “Shut up.” Scylla rolled her eyes, chin resting on the younger witch’s shoulder. “You’re the one who broke out the wine.”
> 
> Her grin echoed in her cozy rumpled voice, “We were celebrating.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After Second Round

Scylla lethargically blinked her eyes open, squinting into the sunlight spilling fully through the nearby window, a gentle breeze washing past the open light blue shutters and floating into the room, the faint hint of salty sweet sea and the earthy calm flowers blooming after the late night rainstorm, droplets still clinging to the weathered white pane and dancing along the deep yellow beams of celestial warmth.

She clumsily brought the heel of her hand to her face, scrubbing the remnants of dreams from her deep blue eyes and pushing back her wavy hair that tangled around her fingers, twirling across the small gold band nestled securely in the same place it had been for years. Blinking again, she breathed in deeply before letting it out slowly, her body melting back into the mattress, the sheets twisted around her legs drawing her back to slumber with their cool comfortable touch against her naked skin. The pillow beneath her head was softer than a cloud, making her feel like she could float off, close her eyes and succumb to the pull of fantasies and hope.

A quiet snuffle and tiny snore caused her face to crack into a smile.

Turning onto her side, hand slipping along the cotton, her gaze drooped with tenderness. 

Raelle was still asleep, back turned to her wife, body bare and glistening in the late morning glow, the sheets crumbled around her waist.

She was gorgeous.

Shuffling across the breath of space between them, Scylla brushed a gentle kiss to the back of her shoulder, smiling to herself when the blonde unconsciously pressed into her. She tucked a hand along her hip, lightly caressing the skin hidden from view, and nosed her way to the crook of her neck, kissing the smooth skin like a benediction, worshipping the body cradled against her like the hope and salvation it always presented.

A low hum rumbled in Raelle’s chest. A calloused palm lazily touched the hand teasing a path from her hip to her belly, Scylla wrapping herself around her wife as she gently sucked at a tiny spot on the side of her neck. 

“Morn’.” Raelle mumbled, eyes still closed but a contented grin tugging at her lips.

“Morning.” Scylla dragged her lips up to her ear, “We slept in.”

“Ya kept us up late.” their fingers slotted together.

“Didn’t hear you complaining.” Scylla kissed behind her ear.

“No, ma’am.” Raelle shivered at the touch, “Happy wife, happy life.”

“Shut up.” Scylla rolled her eyes, chin resting on the younger witch’s shoulder. “You’re the one who broke out the wine.”

Her grin echoed in her cozy rumpled voice, “We were celebrating.” 

Scylla pressed her smile into Raelle’s shoulder at the memory.

_Scylla stood by the driver’s side door of the car, staring at the tiny cottage._ _The early evening sunlight, only a hint of orangish pink painting the horizon at the end of the long gravel drive, cast down upon the bright baby blue front door and comfortably weathered white washed walls. Purple and yellow flowers dotted the walkway up to the home, painting a colorful welcome path. A dirt path veered off around the back, leading to a worn wooden set of stairs that wasn’t visible from the drive but which the brunette easily remembered opened out to a quiet beach. The air was hushed, peaceful. The only sounds were the calming buzz of nature and the subtle lapping of ocean waves._

_Breathing in the salt and sense of peace, she glanced over the top of the car to where the passenger door clicked open. A blonde head bobbed into view, a muted shuffling accompanying the closing of the door._

_“You ok?” Scylla asked as Raelle carefully made her way around the front of the car to stand by her side, weight rocking onto her cane._

_“Beautiful woman driving me to the beach? I’m good.” Raelle reached her side, rolling her shoulders after the long drive. She shot her a playful nudge, “Home sweet home, huh?”_

_“Yeah,” Scylla felt a subtle weight lift off her chest, the emptiness soon filled with a tranquil joy. “Home.”_

_Their home._

_The beach house._

_Raelle arched her back, bending out the kinks, “You want to unlock the door? I can grab one of the bags.”_

_Scylla quirked an eyebrow, “Unlock the door? You have the key, honey.”_

_Raelle froze._

_She blinked owlishly, eyes widening and mouth dropping into a frown, “What?”_

_“I gave you the keys to hold onto.” Scylla looked at her expectantly._

_“You...oh.” Raelle nodded, clearly not remembering that._

_“Can you give them to me?” she held out her hand, palm up, ready to be handed the brand new set of keys they’d been given just a few days prior._

_“Yeah, sure, of course.” Raelle gave her an overly confident smile. She patted at the pockets of her jeans, trying to not show the panic so clear in the crinkle of her eyes and dip of her mouth. She ran her hands along the sides of her jacket, reaching into every pocket she could._

_Scylla let it go on for a few more seconds._

_Nervousness had the blonde’s eyes flickering, orbs dancing worriedly as she searched her memories and her clothes._

_“Rae?”_

_“I got ‘em.” Raelle gave a quick nod, digging into the inside pocket of her jacket and then jamming her hand into the front pockets of her jeans she’d already checked twice._

_“You didn’t forget them, did you?”_

_“No,” the lilt in her voice was not convincing at all._

_Scylla’s smile turned wicked when she teasingly plucked out the set of keys from her own pocket._

_At the sight of the glinting metal, Raelle exhaled loudly, almost bending over in relief, pinching the bridge of her nose, “Goddess, Scylla.”_

_“I found them on the table at the cafe we stopped for breakfast at.” She snagged the edge of Raelle’s jacket, “You’re cute when you’re hopeless.”_

_“I wasn’t hopeless.”_

_Scylla just gave her a look._

_Sighing, Raelle swayed into her, “You’re so mean. I can’t believe you did that.”_

_“I can’t believe you almost forgot the keys to our new house next to the maple syrup.”_

_“I really don’t remember putting them there.”_

_Scylla pecked her cheek, “You never remember putting the keys anywhere, babe.”_

_Raelle shook her head, “I remember.” At Scylla’s glance she added, “Sometimes. I can’t help it. I get distracted by my beautiful wife all the time. Have you met my wife? Gorgeous. Sexy.”_

_“Uh huh.” She gave her cheek one last kiss before pulling back, a mischievous spark lighting up her gaze. “Ready?”_

_“Ready for what?” Raelle barely finished her question before Scylla bent down and scooped her up into her arms with a flourish. The blonde let out an undignified yelp, arms flailing and winding around her shoulders, “Damn it, Scylla!”_

_“What?” she asked smugly, slightly adjusting her grip so the blonde was comfortably cradled against her chest._

_Raelle huffed in amusement, “Really? You’re doing this? Again?”_

_“I know you like your traditions.”_

_Carrying her wife across the threshold?_

_No problem._

_“I like you.” Raelle held on to her cane in one hand and curled the other around the nape of her neck, guiding her into a kiss, “You still just want me in your arms.”_

_“Always.”_

Scylla blinked away the memory and tenderly kissed her way back up to Raelle’s ear, “Marry me?”

“Stealing all my lines.” Raelle waved her left hand into view, “Already got a wife. Wild as hell. Got me drunk an’ had her way with me all night. Might’ve thrown my back out.”

“How’d you do that if you were on it all night?”

Raelle turned in her arms, lighthearted glare aimed at the mischievous smirk, “You’re getting sassier.”

“You’re getting…”

Her words were cut off with a gasp and a giggle as Raelle rolled them over, hovering over here. “Damn sassy weirdo.”

“This is how you woo your wife?” she wrapped her arms around her neck.

Raelle nestled her hips against Scylla’s, “Sexy weird. I like it.” She kissed her, “Love it.”

Scylla hummed into the kiss, “Why did I marry you?”

“I asked nicely.”

“Yes, I’m sure that’s it.”

“I know where to get the best moonshine and gave you a shiny ring.”

“Sounds closer.”

“The sex is amazing.”

“Eh…”

“I love you more than anything. I will never stop loving you.”

“That’s it.” Scylla’s eyes slid closed as their lips met again. Her belly swooped when a tongue glided across her bottom lip and a hand cupped her breast.

“I love you.” Raelle murmured.

“I love you,” Scylla arched into her touch.

“Married the prettiest girl in the world.” She ran her lips across her cheek and up her to her temple before kissing each of her eyelids, “What do you want?”

“You.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere.”

Raelle kissed the tip of her nose, “Welcome home.”

Scylla gripped her back, digging her fingertips into flexing muscles, “Welcome home, Rae.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who wants cookies? You know how to get them. Kudos, comments, being super amazing and reading my work.


	14. Triple Sec

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The spoon clinked gently against the side of the mug, making a tiny tinkling sound similar to uneven wind chimes in a slow summer breeze that matched the soft scent of blooming flowers and crashing seas of salt and sand drifting like invisible clouds of dreams through the open window into the brightly lit kitchen, the late morning rays of sunshine casting a soothing golden glow across the countertop and weaving through dark hair to cause the finger combed locks to glimmer like diamonds in the dark.
> 
> Scylla watched the coffee twirl in a tiny spinning storm in the center of the ceramic cup. The bitter black liquid slowly turned lighter with each loop, becoming a smooth shade of brown similar to the color of the forest on a clear autumn day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy folks. 
> 
> Keep in mind as your eyes peruse the words below, we got some time jumps happening! (Aka each section is a different period of time. FYI. Who needs a delorean?) Yep, these are 3 separate mornings taking place during 3 separate times. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The spoon clinked gently against the side of the mug, making a tiny tinkling sound similar to uneven wind chimes in a slow summer breeze that matched the soft scent of blooming flowers and crashing seas of salt and sand drifting like invisible clouds of dreams through the open window into the brightly lit kitchen, the late morning rays of sunshine casting a soothing golden glow across the countertop and weaving through dark hair to cause the finger combed locks to glimmer like diamonds in the dark.

Scylla watched the coffee twirl in a tiny spinning storm in the center of the ceramic cup. The bitter black liquid slowly turned lighter with each loop, becoming a smooth shade of brown similar to the color of the forest on a clear autumn day. 

A muffled thump tapped behind her, shuffled and lazy, and the witch bit back a smile as flannel covered arms tenderly slipped around her waist from behind. Familiar calloused and sleep softened hands dipped under her crinkled faded t-shirt and tickled the flat of her belly as a nose nuzzled the nape of her neck, warm lips brushing against her cool skin.

“Morn,’” Raelle mumbled tiredly against her, words teasing and comforting puffs of breath against her flesh that had Scylla leaning back into her.

“Good morning, sleepy.” she set the spoon aside and picked up the mug, easing it over her shoulder.

Raelle blindly grasped it, hand lightly scratching Scylla’s stomach as it drifted free, and she pulled away slightly to take a sip before sliding the drink back onto the counter. Her fingers creaked around Scylla’s hips, nudging her to turn around.

Scylla complied, grin growing in size and affection as her nose bumped against her wife’s, foreheads touching. Her barefoot tapped against Raelle’s ankle, and both their lashes fluttered as they took a moment, lightly inhaling the whispers of the ocean and the unspoken devotion that floated between them like the tide, giving and receiving, back and forth, always there, always moving.

Scylla’s entire body felt like the sun had wrapped her in its comforting cozy touch, illuminating everything warm and happy inside of her, turning her soft, making her want to lay outside on the beach and watch the boats sail by with her wife’s hand tangled in her own and her blonde head resting against her chest.

“Hi.” Raelle whispered. Her palm reached for Scylla’s and pressed against it, fingers curling around her hand. Joined, their linked hands rose to rest between them, a ring glinting like a wink.

“Hi.” Scylla’s eyebrow lifted slightly, “What’re you doing?”

“Dancin’ with my wife.” Raelle began to sway them to the sounds of the waves and the songbirds. “Promised her a dance.”

Scylla’s free hand automatically flattened against the blonde’s back. She scratched soothingly, the long sleeved shirt the younger woman had tossed on bunching beneath her tender ministrations. “You do everything you promise?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Raelle’s thumb smoothed against the back of her hand. “Have you met my wife? So demanding.”

Scylla tapped the middle of her back, “Hmmm...and those dishes you didn’t wash last night?”

“Can’t help I got distracted by a pretty girl.” Raelle nosed the apple of her cheek, “Prettiest gal around.” She kissed her jaw, “Marry me?”

“Already married.” She tilted her head, mouth ghosting across the corner of Raelle’s lips, “And, my wife promised me clean dishes.”

Raelle frowned as Scylla pecked her cheek and pivoted out of her arms. Narrowed eyes followed the brunette as she sauntered over to the kitchen table and picked up the newspaper folded in half, only part of the headline visible in large block letters, the ink smudged and the pages slightly soggy. “Leaving me in the middle of a dance?”

Scylla unfolded the paper and flipped through the pages, snagging the crossword and wriggling it free. Glancing up, she caught sight of the pout forming on pale pink lips. Rolling her eyes at herself, she shuffled back over and leaned in to press a kiss to Raelle’s lips. The other woman immediately melted into the touch, fingers hooking in the waistband of Scylla’s shorts and tugging her closer. Tasting the sip of coffee and the minty hint of toothpaste mixed with a tease of creamy sweetness, Scylla deepened the kiss. She cupped Raelle’s cheek and relaxed as she fit in the one spot she could always feel at home in, where could always feel like she belonged.

Breaking apart, Scylla watched lashes flicker and hazy lovestruck eyes meet her own, “I love you.”

“Love you, too.” Raelle ducked in for another kiss.

“You’re still doing the dishes.”

“Dance with me first.”

The dishes got done.

Eventually.

* * *

“Henley, you have five minutes, let’s go!”

A loud thump was heard from the girl’s bedroom followed by a mumbled curse, “I’m coming!”

Scylla swayed back into her bedroom from where she had leaned out to call across the hall, her dark hair swept up into a quick bun, a handful of restless elegant locks framing her regal jaw and tickling her cheek. She absently spun a strand behind her ear, gaze roaming the bedroom, tripping over the dresser, a smattering of odds and ends strewn across the top, the closet, where an errant shirt stuck out from the row of clothes hung neatly, the awkward angle the result of rough hands hastily shuffling through in desperate need of something fresh and passable for semi-professional, to the unmade bed, blankets twisted and tangled from where legs had kicked at them and bodies had rolled out in a rush, “Raelle, have you seen my watch?”

A blonde head, hair still wet from the shower and dripping onto the white of her shirt, causing the cotton to slowly turn more invisible and reveal the smooth skin hidden beneath, popped out of the bathroom, toothbrush dangling precariously from a bluish minty strewn mouth. Her words were muffled, “On your wrist?”

Scylla held up her empty wrist.

Raelle blinked and grabbed the toothbrush before it could plummet to the floor and cause a mess, “Table?”

Scylla shook her head, hand pressing to her brow as a tiny headache started to form.

They were running really really late.

She wasn’t going to make her early office hours.

She was barely going to stroll in before the rest of her students for her morning lecture.

“Here,” Raelle jammed the foamy toothbrush back in her mouth and fumbled with the worn broken-in strap on her left wrist. After a few clumsy attempts, the clasp refusing to give, and nearly choking on toothpaste, she unwound the watch and tossed it to her wife.

Scylla caught it easily, “You’ll be ok?”

Raelle shrugged, ducking back into the bathroom to spit, “Lucy’ll tell me whatever I need to know.” She flipped on the faucet and rinsed out her mouth, “Nothing new there.”

Scylla wrapped the watch around her wrist, fitting it just so, the tiny clasp settling in to the familiar width its normal wearer always wore it at, “You like being told what to do.”

Raelle hopped out of the bathroom on socked feet, shirt half tucked into black slacks and fingers fiddling with the cuffs of her sleeves, “I’m used to being told what to do. Have you met my wife?”

“I’ll tell Anacostia and Abigail about your new appreciation for orders.” Scylla rolled her eyes, before turning her head, “Henley!”

“Two minutes!” another crash sounded.

Raelle glanced toward the other bedroom, “I swear she gets clumsier every day.”

“At least she’s not throwing rocks at my window.” Scylla snagged the front of Raelle’s shirt and tugged her close. Deft fingers easily batted Raelle’s away, and she methodically began to roll up her sleeves, “I have that study session tonight for midterms. You and Henley will be ok?”

“Been planning for weeks. Might get drunk off that new bottle of moonshine and find a pretty girl.” She tucked the rest of her shirt in with glittering eyes. “Buy a nice shiny apple. Pick some flowers. Check out the new sod they put down in the park. Heard the grass is the best in the state.”

“If you come into my study session to drunkenly propose, you will be sleeping on the couch for a week.” Scylla finished with the sleeves and slid her hand up Raelle’s arm to straighten her bent collar.

“Would you say yes?” Raelle grinned at her.

Scylla pecked her lips and pushed her gently away, “A week, Raelle.”

“What if I proposed in your office?”

Henley’s bedroom door flung open, and a messy lump of a teenager tumbled out, hair wild and sweater creased, “Why are we running?”

“You’re going to be late for school, and your mama is going to be late for work.” Scylla answered. 

Technically, both of her parents were already late. 

Lucy was not going to give Raelle a chipper greeting when she finally strolled into the clinic.

Definitely no cookies.

Scylla frowned at her child, “Honey...did you even put pants on?”

Henley looked down at her bare legs, “One minute.”

“You have thirty seconds.”

“How much time have you been spending with Abigail and Anacostia?” Raelle smirked.

“Jealous?” 

“Incredibly.” She winked, “Wouldn’t mind hearing you order me around tonight.”

“Study session, Rae.” Scylla adjusted the face of the watch so it laid more comfortably on her wrist, “If you had set the alarm, we could have had more time this morning.”

Neither said how they both had developed an internal alarm clock that usually woke them up, even without the alarm. How they had been so busy that week, both were too exhausted for their bodies to even remember that.

Busy, it seemed, for more than a week.

Sometimes, it felt like a lifetime.

The weekend couldn’t come soon enough.

A lazy two days at home, curled up on the couch chatting while watching a movie or laughing over a board game sounded amazing. Raelle sneaking a shot of bourbon into Scylla’s tea and teasing their daughter about horrible monopoly rolls. Henley shooting back how Raelle had the worst poker face and making fun of the goofy look the blonde got when Scylla kissed her. Scylla leaning into her wife as she beat them both at the game and running her hands through her daughter’s hair as Henley fell asleep during the movie.

A perfect much needed weekend.

Henley flung herself out of her bedroom again, this time with pants and combed hair, “Why are we late?”

“Because your mama forgot to set the alarm last night.” Scylla followed Raelle out of their bedroom and to the stairs.

“I was distracted.” Raelle called back to the two brunettes. She peeked over her shoulder, eyebrow rising playfully, “Someone was trying to seduce me.”

“I was reading.” 

They descended the stairs, making sure to skip the one squeaky step Raelle swore she would fix soon, “You had those glasses on that make you look sexy as hell, Scyl.” She artfully spun around as they reached the bottom of the stairwell and lightly grasped Scylla’s hips, drawing her close, “Can’t help it my wife is the prettiest gal around.” She dipped in, mouth hovering over Scylla’s, “Didn’t hear any complaints last night.”

Scylla curled her hand around the nape of the blonde’s neck, pads of her fingers tenderly pressing into the spot that had Raelle’s shoulders drooping and her body loosening, lashes fluttering closed, and she tenderly nuzzled her nose along the younger witch’s, her voice low and raspy, the tone that could draw out a shiver when whispered in an ear or breathed across trembling lips, “How could you over how loud you were snoring?”

Raelle’s eyes popped open as lips quickly brushed against her cheek and the brunette moved away, “What?”

Scylla moved toward the door, grabbing her boots and sliding into them, “Henley!”

“I don’t snore.” Raelle grumbled, “I’ve never snored.”

Henley ran heavily down the stairs, jumping over the last few steps and skidding around to the door, almost colliding with the wall, “Can I drive?”

Scylla and Raelle shared a look.

Henley was learning to drive.

She wasn’t...the best.

She had enthusiasm. She was smart.

She was just...inexperienced.

At least she only ran over their trash can once.

Backing up.

It might have been clipped a few more times when the car was not in reverse.

The neighbor’s, though, had seen much better days.

That one got hit head on.

Not even Henley’s necro abilities could bring that thing back.

Raelle swore Scylla left indents from where she gripped onto the passenger door.

Abigail had laughed when they told her, but she also demurred when they offered to let her help teach Henely. That was their kid, their problem. She loved her niece but teaching her to drive was all on Scylla and Raelle.

Edwin laughed so hard he had to hang up, barely getting out a good luck.

“Maybe later.” Raelle offered.

Scylla blinked at her, and Raelle could only shrug helplessly.

She knew what she was getting into with that promise.

Maybe.

Their kid wanted to learn to drive, and someone needed to practice with her.

She was willing to sacrifice herself for her family.

“Great.” Henley cheerfully jammed her feet into her sneakers and grabbed her school bag, the sound of textbooks smacking together following her smile. 

Raelle slipped into her own shoes, rapidly tied the laces, and slung the strap for her own small work bag over her shoulder, “Henley, let’s go.” She turned to Scylla, “I don’t snore.”

Scylla stared at her, “Like a chainsaw. Tractor. Worse than your dad’s old truck trying to start up.”

“So mean.” Raelle leaned in and kissed her cheek, “Love you.” Her next words were barely audible, “She gets her driving skills from you.”

“Whatever,” Scylla’s lips followed her, catching her wife’s mouth, “I love you.”

“See you later tonight. Don’t open a portal to hell with mushrooms. Or bring anyone back to life. Save it for finals.” Raelle tilted around and opened the front door, “Come on, Henley. I’ll drop you off. Let’s go.”

She was a few steps down the path leading to the driveway before Scylla’s familiar voice shot out, “Keys, Rae!” 

“I got them.” Henley plucked the jingling mess from the bowl near the door. “Bye, Mom.” 

“Have a good day, honey. Make sure your mama picks you up something to eat on the way to school. Hopefully something _not_ pure sugar. If she doesn’t, you have those granola bars in your bag, ok? Do you have money for lunch?” There was no time to make anything.

“Yep.”

“Ok, remember, I’ll be home late tonight. Don’t let your mama get into trouble.” She picked at her daughter’s sweater, straightening out the shoulders.

“It’s Mama.” Henley deadpanned.

Scylla could only nod in teasing acceptance. Raelle was a great parent. She had no worries. The two would most likely make a small dinner and end up turning the television on while going over their homework and work files, respectfully. 

Unless they tried to bake something again. Her wife and child were not bakers. At all. 

The last batch of brownies they tried to make one rainy day was a testament to that.

It was a torrential downpour, and every window in the house was wide open to let out the smoke somehow caused by brownies that turned out half baked and lumpy.

They knew to stick to ice cream for a treat from now on.

Until Byron called to badger Raelle about cookie baking.

Goddess, those two were trouble together.

“Call me if you need anything. You know the number to my office.”

“I know. See you later.” She quickly hugged Scylla before scampering after her other parent.

Scylla grabbed her own keys and followed them, closing the door and locking up as she listened to car doors open and close and her wife’s muted voice.

“You got lunch money, Hen? That one coffee place with the bacon and egg sandwiches you like is a block from your school, right? Shit...is that the time?”

* * *

The sun was just beginning to rise. The thin line between land and sky, dreams and reality, wakefulness and sleep, was painted a blisteringly beautiful shade of calm pinks and illuminating yellows woven through the bright white that soothingly chased away the darkness and allowed the stars and moon to rest. The streets were quiet save for the hum of a few birds and the life force of the earth. The feel of Fort Salem and all its power was a gentle thrum even at this distance, both calling and comforting yet a reminder of a place and time Scylla sometimes would rather not recall. 

Would rather forget the cold isolation of that basement, metal of the chains biting into her wrists, the clanging of them as she moved at times the only sound in the dark. 

Would rather forget sitting in that chair, unable to move, to follow, to get Raelle to see reason and believe her, believe that she loved her and _they_ were real, as the blonde walked away, knowing they were broken but willing to do anything to fix it, to be the one to fix it.

Would rather forget the rumbling of a nearby storm and the pounding of feet as an empty casket lay in the distance, a flag in Edwin’s lap and soldiers talking about her lover, talking about her like they knew her, like this was what she wanted. 

Would rather forget the feeling at the exact moment she understood what Anacostia was trying to tell her in that coffee shop. 

She’d rather remember the way Raelle smiled at her the first time they met. Charming and intrigued and rakishly scintillating.

Remember the way Raelle looked at her, drunk and adoring, as she talked about dancing and _being ok_.

Remember how it felt to receive a grass ring.

Cradling her steaming mug of tea in hand, the tiny twisted string hooked along the edge that held the bag of seeping blackened leaves tickled the curve of her finger. She took a testing sip, the billowing puff of warmth washing over her nose and along the expanse underneath her eyes, curling around to envelope the rest of her face.

Still a bit too hot and weak.

The cup slid back down to rest near her chest. Dark blue eyes peered out of the window. The trees were green and blooming, full of life. The skies were turning more blue with each passing second, the same color as a pair of eyes that she loved to fall asleep to every night and wake up with every morning. Her bottom lip slipped between her teeth, and she traced the outline of the ceramic handle with the pad of her thumb.

Before her thoughts could turn to anything of substance, such as when she should start grading those quizzes or what to include on a grocery list...or the greyish bleak memories that sometimes slipped in like daggers to her soul, she felt something sneak into her chest. A warm gentle coziness not brought about by the tea in her grasp or the sparkle of the spring air. Her mouth relaxed into an easy smile at the feeling. Her body loosened, any morsel of tension fading away, melting into the air around her. The silence of the morning was quickly broken by the faint clapping of heels against pavement. Tilting her head, she could just make out a flash of movement making its way across a path and toward her apartment.

A few moments later, there was a fumbling and the front door creaked open.

She took another sip of tea as she listened to the door shut and shoes get unceremoniously kicked off along with a few deep gulping breaths and a mumbled sniffle. 

Savoring the taste of her steadily strengthening tea, she watched the doorway leading into the tiny kitchen and unconsciously counted down the seconds.

When she reached one, a red sweat soaked face framed by ruffled ragged blonde locks, half in tight braids that swung near a perfectly cut jaw, appeared.

“Hi.” Scylla greeted with a smile tugging at her cheeks. Making sure it was far from the ledge, she carefully set her cup down on the counter.

Raelle grinned at her, smudging a bit of dirt along her cheek with the back of her hand, “Hey. Morning.”

“Good morning. How was your run?” She faintly remembered dragging her fingers along a lithe shoulder as a little _good morning_ and _goodbye_ kiss drifted over her hairline before letting the twilight peacefulness and padding footsteps lull her back to sleep. 

She couldn’t be sure if Raelle was waking up earlier and earlier to get in her run or she was dropping into bed next to Scylla later and later, but it seemed she felt the other woman asleep in her arms less and less as the days and weeks went by. As the shiny stripes on Raelle’s uniform grew less polished and heavier on her shoulders.

Scylla feared it was the latter.

Same as she worried about how, despite the wars being over and Petra Bellweather working to restore relations amongst the Hague countries, Raelle was being sucked into a world they had a chance to fully leave behind...and didn’t.

A world that would easily let Raelle sacrifice her life without a whim of regret or guilt.

Raelle shrugged and moved up to her, “Fine. Tally and Glory joined. Gonna have to bug Bells about skipping. The illustrious Bellweather missing a morning run? Blasphemy.” 

Scylla leaned further back against the counter and focused on the way a drop of perspiration slowly trickled down Raelle’s face, paving a sparkling path across the red hued skin and painting her cheek in a translucent sheen before tracing along her scar to the tip of her chin.

Raelle paused for a moment, mouth pursing slightly as her gaze settled on Scylla’s face, on the tiny dip at the corner of her mouth and the hidden depths of her blue orbs. The weight of her medal hung from her neck with the circular medallion wedged in a cotton crease. 

Some days she felt the pull of the necklace more than others.

Sometimes she forgot the medal was even there.

Other times, there was nothing else she could think of. It was impossible to ignore. Not remember.

That medal meant she would have to leave for base soon. Would most likely be gone all day. Lucky enough to make it back in time to share a meal with Scylla. It meant she woke up and was running the well known paths toward the lakes and buildings that heralded the witches’ place before the sun was even up. Before Scylla was fully awake, a tired touch and mumbled goodbye all Raelle needed as she crawled out of their bed. It meant she’d change into her uniform and go to the infirmary. Do her best to rebuild a devastated fixer corp. Heal and train and hopefully prepare soldiers to survive a career that required they put their bodies and minds at risk for everyone else - their units, the army, the country. Civilians. Witches.

It meant something else always came first. Before herself. Before Scylla. Before her father or her friends.

The medal meant so much.

A small piece of metal with her name and rank. Nothing outright special about it. Nothing eye-catching.

And yet.

The medal was the reason her and Scylla met.

It was also the reason they both could grow quiet. 

The reason Raelle had a scar on her chest and back.

The reason she sometimes dreamed of desert sand and leaving helicopters.

The reason she met her best friends. Her sisters. Byron. Glory. Anacostia. Izadora.

The reason she should be in a casket.

The reason Scylla had seen one meant for her.

The reason her and Scylla could get a certain look in their eye.

A certain look Raelle recognized in Scylla’s at that moment. 

A look she knew how to draw the brunette out of, if for a short while.

With a smirk, Raelle plucked at the shoulder of her damp shirt and flicked it up to wipe at the corner of her eye and temple before letting it drop and stepping forward to plant a kiss on her girlfriend’s cheek and playfully wiggle her eyebrows, “I’m all warmed up.”

Scylla scrunched her nose and playfully rolled her eyes, “There’s a bottle of water in the refrigerator. Might help with that thirst of yours.”

“Don’t think that’ll help any.” Raelle nosed the curve of her jaw. “Ya smell good.”

“Because I didn’t just run seven miles.” Scylla pressed a hand to her chest and pushed lightly, “Go shower.”

“You gonna join me?”

Scylla quickly kissed the edge of her lips, “You’re already worn out, honey. I don’t want to make you pull a muscle when you have to lead training tomorrow.”

“It was one time.” Raelle huffed as Scylla twisted around her and sauntered a few paces away.

Scylla shot her a quirked brow and sassy smirk over her shoulder, “As much fun as it was explaining to Abigail how you got injured, I’m not sure Bellweather could handle another chat like that. And neither can your back, baby.”

Raelle quickly shuffled after her, closing the distance in a few swift steps. She grasped Scylla’s hips, spinning her around and walking her backwards, “You’re so mean to me.”

Scylla chuckled, walking backwards, “I don’t want you to hurt yourself, again. I’m only looking out for you.”

The brunette’s back softly hit a wall. Scylla leaned into it as Raelle pressed close, lightly pinning her in place, hands splayed out on either side of the necro. The blonde’s eyes seemed to darken as Scylla watched her, a challenging gleam in her blue gaze. Raelle’s eyes dipped down, glancing at a slightly parted pink mouth before tracking back up to meet Scylla’s stare. 

Scylla tilted her head a fraction, tongue poking out to wet her lips, “What?”

“You’re so beautiful.” Raelle’s gaze traced the curve of an eyebrow, the elegance of a cheekbone, the draw of her jaw.

“You’re so sweaty.” Scylla teased, heart tickled at the ardent gaze. She slid a hand up and tapped right above Raelle’s heart, the pads of her fingers feeling the whisper of the scar and the beating rhythm hidden beneath the grey regulation t-shirt, “And your lines are old, Collar.”

“Still work on you.” She leaned in, tenderly brushing her lips against Scylla’s before pushing herself back, “One.”

Scylla’s lips twisted in charmed confusion, “What are you doing?”

Raelle bent her elbows, lowering herself for another kiss before pushing back and straightening her arms, “Two.”

“Raelle,”

“Three,” Raelle repeated the movement, “Gotta get my pushups in, Scyl. Make sure I’m fit enough to take that shower with you.”

Scylla rolled her eyes and accepted another kiss, “You’re such a dork.”

“You love it.” Raelle winked, “Four.” She hummed, “Doing what you said. Gotta keep up my strength. My girl is wild. Can barely keep up with her.”

When she lowered herself again, Scylla cupped her face, palms cradling her cheeks and holding her in place.

Raelle sank into her as teeth nipped at her bottom lip, soothed by a soft tongue. Fingers weaved into the hair at the back of her head, lightly massaging and urging her closer. Her hips easily slotted between Scylla’s, hands coming to rest on supple hips. 

Raelle shifted, thumbs snaking along the hem of Scylla’s jeans and rubbing the small patches of skin near her hip bones. She met each kiss, lips accepting and giving, turning more demanding, more needy, with each passing moment. Her chest stuttered when a warm palm dipped under her shirt and flattened against the small of her back. 

Her heart stopped when a leg hooked around her hip and the hand pressed her closer still.

The kiss broke, foreheads coming together, breaths mingling. Raelle ran her hand along Scylla’s thigh, slipping beneath her knee. Hazy eyes slid open slightly, dazedly searching for the ocean of blue that crashed into her and left her adrift yet provided an anchor, a lighthouse in the hurricane of desire swirling inside of her. Raelle whispered, pure emotion and meaning infused in her gentle words, “I love you.”

“I love you.” Scylla brushed their lips together, throaty tone scratchy and hypnotizing, “You need a shower, Raelle.”

“Uh huh.”

She pulled her closer, “I need to start grading these quizzes.”

“Sure.” she nuzzled along the side of Scylla’s nose, breathing her in and tasting the lingering scent of tea on sanguine lips. 

“You’re supposed to be on base in an hour,” her head tipped back, exposing the expanse of her neck.

Raelle took the open invitation, nipping lightly at her pulse point before placing tiny kisses where a heartbeat stuttered, “Yeah.”

Scylla swallowed thickly, lashes dancing as a tongue and teeth lapped at her delicate skin, “Don't start something you can't finish.”

"No, ma'am." Raelle kissed a path up to her ear, “Already told you, Scyl. I’m all warmed up.”

"You're going to be late."

She nipped at her earlobe before sucking gently, “I know a shortcut.” 

"Rae,"

"Don't hear no bells. Besides, might need your help with an inspection."

Scylla turned her head and caught her lips in a searing kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, your readership is greatly appreciated. Feel free to drop your thoughts in the comments section. Love, hate, good, bad, confused - I'll take it all. 
> 
> Also, feel free to follow me on Tumblr. I post random stuff that sometimes has to do with my fic. @thefabfan10


	15. Snake Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The music was muffled slightly by the abundance of small talk and chatter in the large ballroom, various officers standing in groups or threading their way through the melee, sincere and fake smiles alike as fingers grasped delicate champagne flutes and hands were shaken while introductions were made and connections formed or solidified.
> 
> The band continued to play, a small setup of strings and percussion providing slow sweeping beats for a few souls to step along to and others to nod their heads or tap their fingers with as they crowded around the bar area or tipped back their glass for one last swallow before depositing it on a passing tray. Uniforms sparkled and shined under the chandelier, pins and medals displayed proudly on puffed up chests and eyes taking in the marks on a shoulder before approaching.
> 
> Raelle needed a drink.
> 
> Or ten.
> 
> God, she hated these things.
> 
> Especially sober.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place before Baby Buzz. (Wowsers, we're traveling back in time!)

The music was muffled slightly by the abundance of small talk and chatter in the large ballroom, various officers standing in groups or threading their way through the melee, sincere and fake smiles alike as fingers grasped delicate champagne flutes and hands were shaken while introductions were made and connections formed or solidified.

The band continued to play, a small setup of strings and percussion providing slow sweeping beats for a few souls to step along to and others to nod their heads or tap their fingers with as they crowded around the bar area or tipped back their glass for one last swallow before depositing it on a passing tray. Uniforms sparkled and shined under the chandelier, pins and medals displayed proudly on puffed up chests and eyes taking in the marks on a shoulder before approaching.

Raelle needed a drink.

Or ten.

God, she hated these things.

Especially sober.

“I look like a Christmas tree.” Raelle grumbled, rolling her shoulders, her own pins and medals sparkling like ornaments in a winter gleam.

“A grumpy Christmas tree.” Scylla replied lightly, gaze scanning the room.

“I’m not grumpy.”

Scylla’s eyebrow ticked up incredulously as her disbelieving eyes floated to the woman at her side. 

She was totally grumpy.

Raelle couldn’t help it.

She had finally gotten to a point she could be home from work before the clock ticked closer to the next day. Leave her office and the infirmary to have dinner with Scylla and spend time with her, see her, talk with her about their days and kiss her goodnight as they tucked themselves under the blankets in their bed. Watch as Scylla read another chapter in whatever book rested on the nightstand that week. Roll onto her side and let her head fall into the brunette’s lap. Feel delicate tender fingers slowly thread through her hair as the soft sound of turning pages lulled her into the comfortable space between sleep and wakefulness. When the book closed and the lamp flicked off, be able to feel Scylla find that perfect spot in her arms and breathe in everything about her as they both let slumber overtake them.

Be able to be with her wife.

Be able to just _be_.

There was a moment of peace in the medical divisions. The once decimated department was once more an organized powerful part of the military. Training methods were enhanced, tactics were amplified, and the overall unit that once dwindled to barely a handful of exhausted weathered beaten soldiers was now solidified into a more robust dedicated loyal and strong gathering of witches. 

Raelle could breathe. Live. She could look at Scylla’s face laid next to her own instead of the photo balanced on her desk next to endless files and schedules. 

She could offer to cook dinner. Actually do so.

She could make Scylla a cup of tea. Taste the bitter blackness of the brewed leaves on her lips in the morning and the subtle soft floral delicacy on her tongue at night.

She could ignore impending projects and orders that always hovered unspoken on the horizon. Not think about unexpected crises or severe meetings with those of higher ranks and differing opinions.

She could focus on Scylla.

She could _be_ with her.

Instead of spending one of her first free evenings in what felt like lifetimes alone with her wife, she was back on base attending a ball with all these people she’d spent every waking hour with. 

Most of them people who still brushed her off as nothing but the Cession with no significant matriline who didn’t understand what she was talking about when she advised the generals.

People who cared more about last names and ranks and birthplace than anything else.

She just wanted to be alone with Scylla. Not have to think about how this was what she had chosen for them. Her and Scylla. A world that didn’t care she was married and barely got to see her wife. A world that, no matter how hard she worked, still was not where she hoped it would be. A world she never quite fit in, even with the tailored uniform and soldiers under her command. A world she thought she had found her place in, that held her friends, mentors, a job she knew how to do, was born to do. Where she was meant to be. The only option for a Cession witch who only knew how to fix people. A world that let her stay by her friends' sides. A world she continued to drag Scylla into.

Even with the ring on her finger whose weight always felt new yet familiar, like it had been there all along and she couldn’t see it till now, wasn’t as heavy as the medal hanging around her neck.

A small gold band that had not been on her finger all that long. A speck that sometimes still surprised her when she saw it. A glimmer that brought her a sense of calm when she touched it. A piece of innocuous jewelry that reminded her she was finally married to the woman she loved more than anything. Had promised to be there for her, with her, forever. Made a vow. An oath.

An oath that sat parallel to one she made when she was eighteen.

An oath that, as time slowly passed, she couldn’t deny clashed with the one draped around her throat.

She didn’t want to kiss up to commanders to gain another stripe on her shoulder.

She wanted to tuck her head into the crook of Scylla’s neck and listen to her heartbeat until she fell asleep in her arms.

She wasn’t grumpy.

She was tired.

She was married to Scylla, and she saw more of her in her memories than in reality.

There were nights when those memories transformed into dreams. Thoughts. Wishes.

When she looked at the image of her wife in her mind and pictured her with a kid.

Pictured them with a family.

She couldn’t help it.

Sometimes, those thoughts were too strong to ignore. Too powerful. Too...beautiful.

Sighing silently, she squeezed Scylla’s hand laced with her own and lifted it up to tuck it into the crease of her elbow, “You good?”

Scylla nodded, eyes roaming the room, “Of course.”

The blonde glanced at her wife. Outwardly, she looked calm. Face unreadable. Polite, if anything. Unaffected.

Raelle could feel the way her fingers dug just that tiny bit into the woolen sleeve of her blue coat, the glint in her eyes, the uncomfortable twitch of her lips.

Scylla did not like being on base if she didn’t have to be, and she certainly did not enjoy being surrounded by the upper crust of military power. Put them together?

It wasn’t the brunette’s dream evening.

Not that she’d let it show. 

Leaning over to kiss her cheek, Raelle murmured, “Ten. I get ten dances with you, and then we leave.”

“Ambitious.”

“It’s why you married me.”

“Thought it was for the sex.”

“That, too.”

“Eh.” Scylla smirked playfully, “It’s been so long, I might have forgotten if it was any good or not.”

Raelle felt Scylla’s hand slide down, and she relinked their fingers together. Her mouth brushed against Scylla’s ear, “We could go to my office. I can show you how much I remember.” The tip of her nose nuzzled the spot just behind a cute ear, “You can give me a quick quiz, professor. See if I pass. Oral exam?”

Scylla’s smile twitched and her lashes fluttered as she turned slightly and patted Raelle’s chest, “Your office is on the other side of base.”

“I know a shortcut.”

Scylla turned fully, her forehead touching the blonde’s, “You need to be here. We get through the night, and we can go back home and work on planning that vacation.” She squeezed Raelle’s hand, the fingers of her other hand sweeping up to tickle the nape of the younger witch’s neck, “Say hi to a few people. Shake hands. Try not to be grumpy. Then, we can go.” Her eyes twinkled, “Besides, we both know Abigail would hunt you down if you left.”

There was no doubt in either mind that the younger Bellweather would drag Raelle back while listing off all the reasons her shitbird needed to at least act like she cared about proper custom and protocol.

Raelle rubbed the pad of her thumb along a small patch of skin, “She’d understand. Have you met my wife?”

“You really need to stop saying that.” 

Raelle sighed, “Still want my dances.”

“Two.”

“Ten.”

“Three.”

“Fifty.”

“Not how negotiating works, honey.”

Raelle curled in closer and lifted their joined hands. Her lips pressed a delicate kiss to the back of Scylla’s, “Marry me?”

“Get in line. One of my students brought me an apple today.”

Blue eyes widened dramatically, “What?”

Scylla chuckled and rolled her eyes, “It was perfectly sized. Bright shiny red.”

Her eyes narrowed, “Who?”

“Why? Need to scope out the competition? Send in an Intelligence gathering unit?” She kissed the corner of her mouth, “Are you going to be a spy now?”

“No.” Raelle dipped her chin to chase after ruby lips, “Want to know where they found the apple. Place by us had ‘em all bruised last time.”

“Uh huh.” she absentmindedly fiddled with the sash draped across Raelle’s shoulder, “Guess you better work harder on those morning push ups. Make up for it.”

Hands drifted down to lightly hold Scylla’s hips. Thumbs gently rubbed tiny circles at the silk covered skin. Raelle’s eyes flickered down before slowly dragging back up to meet Scylla’s, “Prettiest gal around.”

“Better get me to that dance floor before someone else does.”

A tiny growl had Raelle nipping at her pulse, causing Scylla to giggle, “So mean to me.”

A throat cleared loudly next to them.

Raelle’s shoulder sunk at the unexpected yet totally expected noise. It was only a matter of time until someone came and found her. She didn’t move, face hidden against Scylla. The brunette ran her hand along the back of her head soothingly before dipping down and rubbing the middle of her back, tracing a path up and down her spine in such a way that had her melting.

“Captain.”

With one last reluctant kiss, Raelle lifted her head and turned to the voice.

One of her officers from the infirmary stood there apologetically, “Good evening, Captain. Mrs. Ramshorn-Collar.”

“Hi, Larson.” Scylla greeted politely as Raelle did her best impression of a grumpy cat.

“Good to see you this evening.” Sgt. Larson nodded at her with a grin. She peeked at Raelle, “Bellweather is looking for you, RC.”

A sigh, “Which one?”

“Your boss.”

Petra.

Damn it.

Raelle glanced at Scylla, “I have to go.”

“Play nice with the other kids.” Scylla nudged her, “Come find me after.”

“Always.” Raelle ducked in and kissed her, “Gonna get you a drink.”

“Go talk to Petra.”

“Will if she’s at the bar.”

Scylla rolled her eyes and stepped away from her. Raelle’s eyes followed, silently asking if she was ok on her own.

Of course she was. Scylla could take care of herself.

Didn’t mean she wanted her left alone in a place like this. 

Neither of them wanted to be left alone.

“Think I saw Cpt. Moffet over by the tables.” Larson piped up, “I could take you over there.”

Scylla nodded at Raelle, “Go on, soldier. Don’t keep the boss waiting.”

“I’ll get you a drink as fast as possible, then.” Their linked fingers slowly separated as they moved away from each other, “Martini?”

“Make it dirty.”

“You do like it dirty.”

Scylla winked before starting to follow Larson, “Sneak some of that moonshine I know you have in that flask in your pocket into it, and we can find out what else I like.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Scylla winked over her shoulder, “Think they have lobster here?”

Raelle watched as her wife and Larson walked away, getting lost in the crowd after a few moments. 

Goddess, she loved her. 

As the last speck of brunette hair and marble hued skin disappeared, Raelle was left in a sea of blue. Uniforms bobbed and weaved around her. Nothing but pins and medals and stripes to tell them apart. 

She itched to follow Scylla. To take her hand and lead her to the dance floor. To hold her close. To whisper in her ear and let herself be led home, led to their bed.

She couldn’t.

She had to be there.

Attendance was mandatory, if not by order, for her career.

A career she was questioning more and more of as the days passed by. 

As she sat back and looked at her life, examined the ring on her finger, the pictures on her desk in her office. As she thought about...about things she never imagined she could think about when she was a kid. 

About her wife.

About a family.

About so many things she wanted to experience with Scylla.

So many things she couldn’t, because, as long as she wore that uniform and slipped on the medal that rested on the chain along her neck, her first priority was always the army.

Her first choice was meant to always be the army.

Exhaling, Raelle shook those thoughts away. Her feet guided her through the crowds and the buzz to where the small bar was set up. 

She caught the bartender’s eye, “Martini and a bourbon, please. Neat.”

As the bartender snagged a glass to start on the order a presence stepped up behind the blonde, “Raelle.”

The witch turned slowly, leaning her back against the bar and eyes landing on the bemused face of Petra Bellweather, “General.”

“How is your wife?”

“You didn’t find me to talk about my wife.” Raelle couldn’t stop the large adoring smile that formed, “But she’s great.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Thank you.”

“You seem to be a hard person to find. You missed our staff meeting.”

The meeting Petra had called earlier that day that required representatives from all departments. A meeting that would have been filled with the exact same officers who internally glared and rolled their eyes at the thought of a Collar being in that room.

Raelle conducted a training session with second year War College students instead.

Her fingers itched for that drink, “Hope I didn’t miss anything too exciting. Did you break out the whisky?”

Petra eyed her for a moment before continuing, her glance getting across her displeasure and indicating the following discussion called for a certain focus Raelle’s casual posture didn’t exude, “There have been rumblings about unrest in the Balkans. The majority opinion is that action is required on our part. A company or two, for now, to assess the situation with more forces on standby for immediate deployment.”

Raelle straightened immediately.

 _Deployment_.

“How many units overall?”

Petra shrugged, more a slight lift of her shoulder than anything overt, “Enough to accomplish the goal.”

“What’s that?”

“Peace.”

“Is it?”

Two drinks were pushed near Raelle’s elbow, and Petra waited for the bartender to slide away to fulfill another order, “Maj. Todd is adamant she be allowed to lead the mission, and Gen. Harley agrees. Majority blasters with a few fixers and knowers would be sent first while talks continue with the Hague.”

That did not sound like a group searching for peace.

It sounded like someone looking for a fight.

“Ratios?”

“One fixer per twenty blasters.”

“No.” Raelle shook her head, “No way.”

Petra’s eyebrow rose.

“You need at least five...the bare minimum...for that many blasters.” Raelle frowned, “One fixer would be overwhelmed. Might as well not send any at all.”

“Todd said it would be similar to the Altai Mountains.”

“The Altai Mountains was a shitshow, and you know it.” Raelle ground out. Her jaw locked, eyes flaring and hardening as her hands curled at her sides, heart pounding and the scar above her heart burning like a feverishly glowing knife sliced across her chest, “No way you’re sending that few fixers into a possible combat zone. Blasters can do basic first aid. That’s it. One fixer...they’re good as dead.” Raelle swallowed thickly, “We lost 80% of our entire combat medical force. It was this sort of thinkin’ that got us there. If the enemy doesn’t target us and kill us, then the exhaustion and fightin’ will. Blasters ain’t the only ones in the middle of a fight. They just don’t put themselves in danger to rescue someone else. Not like a fixer.”

The Camarilla had been vicious. Merciless. The moment a fixer dropped her defenses to aid a fallen soldier, she was targeted. 

Hard for witchery to survive if those meant to heal them were all gone.

With an already depleted army from decades of fighting and increasingly shrinking enlistment, the losses were brutal.

“Maj. Todd is finishing her logistical assessment and planning for review by the end of the week.”

Raelle met her gaze, “If you authorize that small of a force, I will not release anyone under my command, and I will order every single medical specialty soldier to ignore deployment orders.”

Petra’s lips twitched with a smirk, “Are you saying you will disobey direct orders, Cpt. Ramshorn-Collar?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time, ma’am.”

“Quite the attitude for a captain.”

“You asked me to stay after conscription. Not the other way around. You want someone to tell you what you want to hear, find someone else and tell me to go home.” Raelle took a breath, “Send Intelligence if you want info. Send a bunch of mine if you want to show some sort of peacekeepin’ or humanitarian force. A whole lot of combat troops with next to no fixers or even knowers? Necros? You just want to blow things up and get people killed. I didn’t stay to train witches to serve the same way I had to.” 

Petra’s smirk grew, “Maj. Todd will not be incredibly happy to hear your advice.”

“Maj. Todd hasn’t been happy since I told her to get the hell out of my infirmary when she was badgering my lieutenants.” 

“Your charm has not worked on her.”

“Neither has yours.”

Petra nodded, hearing the words for what they were, “She does her job, and she has a strong family name.”

Raelle scoffed to herself. 

Maj. Todd might be a fellow High Atlantic, but she never showed an ounce of outright acceptance or joy, and only the barest of respect, at the news of Petra Bellweather’s promotion and leadership.

A few families stood by Alder’s side to the very end.

The Todds were one of them.

Not all families were behind a Bellweather gaining the illustrious mantle once held by Gen. Sarah Alder.

They might follow orders. Play nice. Play the game. Didn’t mean looks weren’t exchanged and subtle barbs traded.

A normal life amongst the High Atlantics and upper echelon of witchery.

Petra sighed, “It is better to keep her close. Abigail has worked well with her so far.” It was the most the older witch would ever admit to out loud. 

Raelle shrugged, “Yes, ma’am.” It wasn’t her fight or decision. The Todds and everyone else were playing along, even if grimly and unhappily.

For most, it was all just a game of one upmanship anyway. 

All about whose matriline was most decorated and who held the most insignia on their uniform.

Onward to glory.

An officer quietly approached Petra, giving her a small signal with a whoosh of her hand. The general was needed elsewhere.

Petra took a step back, “My office tomorrow morning. 8am sharp. We can discuss your views on logistics.”

Raelle could tell her about how stupid it was to rely solely on combat infantry with the medical personnel as little more than an afterthought tossed in to take the brunt of whatever injuries and fighting erupted.

Sometimes, Raelle really wished Col. Wick had never retired. 

“Of course, ma’am.”

“Say hello to Scylla for me. I’m sure my daughter has already found her.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As Petra strolled away, head ducked as she conferred with her aide, a sharp laugh that sounded more like a knife than anything jovial sliced through the music. Raelle, turning around to grasp her drinks, leaned her forearms against the bar and peeked over.

Maj. Todd stood a few paces away. Wine glass in hand while the other easily shook hands. Her uniform was crisp. The pins and medals were meticulously aligned, perfectly placed. Her teeth were sharp as they reflected the light, and her eyes were even sharper. 

As if sensing the look, the other woman took a sip of her drink before speaking to the Colonel standing before her, “Yes, it’s...worrisome. While I have had my doubts about Gen. Bellweather, and there have been many, I am still unclear why anyone thought it would be a good idea to assign that many fixers to a company.”

Raelle grit her teeth.

Maybe so everyone didn’t end up dead?

“It takes away from combat capabilities. Our strength is greatly reduced if we were to ever send any units out to fight.” Todd’s voice pretended to lower, but it was still loud and clear, “Have you seen the training provided by the fixer division for other specialties? It’s absurd.” She took another sip, “This is why someone of a much higher rank and...experience should be in the top levels of leadership.” Another sip of wine, “Bellweather has bent down to the Hague, overseen the complete destruction of the Accord and our power, and has put people like her daughter and... _others_ in leadership positions. At this rate we may as well tell the rest of the world we don’t have an army at all, and let the civilians know the military they once _needed_ to keep them safe is gone. To think she once ran _Intelligence_.”

Raelle ignored the drinks placed in front of her.

Her hands had already curled into fists on the countertop.

She should walk away.

Leave it alone.

Maj. Todd was with the blasters. Combat. They had no reason to cross paths beyond staff meetings with Petra, and even those were few, considering Todd did not lead the overall blaster specialty, unlike Raelle with the medical divisions.

Didn’t mean they hadn’t bumped into each other a few times.

And, it looked like Todd was becoming a more permanent fixture at Petra’s more high level meetings.

It seemed Todd wanted her chance to prove herself with this mission.

She would likely get it.

And, the wicked glint in her eye told Raelle that she knew exactly who was within hearing range.

Raelle closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She uncurled a fist and subtly touched the ring on her finger. 

She told Petra her thoughts. They could discuss it further tomorrow behind closed doors and without a band playing a waltz in the corner. That was the extent of it. There was nothing else to do that evening. She would take Scylla her drink and press up against her side. Slink her arm around her waist and spend time with their friends. Sneak in a few kisses and pull her out to the dance floor. Maybe toss Anacostia a wink to earn an eye roll and shake of the head.

Focus on work and office politics tomorrow.

“The people they allow in here.” Todd’s voice rang out. “I can almost understand those who left after conscription ended...but...there are _Spree_ here. _Dodgers_ . _Traitors_.”

Raelle’s spine went rigid. Back snapping straight like a rubber band stretched to the brink.

That was it.

Raelle spun around and marched up to the taller woman, “Maj. Todd.”

The woman glared cooly at Raelle, eyes more ice than inhabiting a soul, “Cpt. Collar.”

“Ramshorn-Collar.” Raelle showed her hand, ring clearly visible, “I’m married. Have been for a while.”

“Ah, yes. How could I forget?” Neither noticed as the Colonel quietly excused herself and walked away. “Enjoying your evening?”

“Would enjoy it more if you watched your mouth.”

Todd’s entire countenance shifted, her shoulders pulling back and a slight snarl curling her lips, any hint of feigned politeness gone, “Pardon... _Captain_?”

Todd outranked her.

Raelle might run the fixers, but she was still only a captain.

And, they both knew it.

“My apologies.” Raelle’s body vibrated with barely concealed energy, “I would enjoy it more if you watched your mouth, _ma’am_.”

Todd’s eyes sparked.

Raelle unflinchingly met her gaze.

A slow dismissive smirk, “I will let your insubordination go, this time, Cpt. Collar. Perhaps you should refresh yourself on proper military protocol. With your...background...I wouldn’t expect you to know everything you should.”

Raelle might hit her.

Her hand itched to fly out.

Knuckles straight to her teeth. Might bust up her hand, but it’d shut her up.

One of her staff could fix her up. Hopefully before Scylla saw it.

“If you have something to say, Todd. Say it.” She ignored the voice in her head that sounded a lot like Anacostia telling her to calm down and step back. To use her head.

The other woman smirked, a cruel action that dripped with disdain, “Careful, Collar. A Bellweather isn’t around to cover for you.” Her eyes narrowed slightly, “I understand they don’t teach you proper manners in the Cession, but, then again, you were never meant to be anything more than war meat, were you? What’s it like to be dragged along on a High Atlantic’s coattails? And a Bellweather’s at that. Only a captain. Aimed low, I see. Then again, how could someone in your position aim high at all?”

Her tendons ached with the force of her fist curling even tighter at her side. Her bones creaked. Eyes darkened.

The woman set her drink down and stepped into Raelle’s personal space. She towered over the silently seething blonde, “We both know you shouldn’t be here, _Captain_ .” She stared at Raelle like she was less than the dirt under the finely manicured grass outside, “A Cession half civilian nobody who only got her commission because Bellweather took pity on you. Because you made friends with her daughter. A charity case. You weren’t even a captain before Bellweather decided to upend everything and set this military back by generations. A combat medic who didn’t even get into War College.” Her smile turned biting, presence glacial, “You brought a _Spree_ onto our base. A _dodger_ . A _traitor_ . What sort of _captain_ would bring one of _them_ here? Not someone fit to lead. Either she’s a decent fuck or you’re too...”

Her words cut off abruptly as Raelle burst forward.

Raelle violently pushed into her, and Todd’s jaw snapped shut with an audible click. The blonde’s hand roughly grabbed the front of her uniform, twisting the material and unsettling the perfectly positioned pins. She shoved her into the bar, silently slamming her against the wood and causing the nearby glasses to wobble and those around them to lift their heads curiously. 

Raelle’s voice was deadly, “ _Don’t_ talk about my wife.” 

A hush seemed to fall over the two.

Todd sneered at her, teeth bared and face pure ice cold rage.

Raelle shoved her harder, toppling over the wine glass the other woman had set down, “Say whatever you want about me, Todd. Don’t you ever say a _damn_ word about her.” She leaned in, “You want to know why I’m where I am? Because I served. China. Spain. Argentina. Norway. Don’t remember seeing you at any of ‘em.” Her fist twisted the wool fabric harder, tangling the previously perfectly placed sash, “Don’t remember ever seeing you deployed.” Her voice was cutting, “ _My wife_ fought more than you ever did. She sacrificed more than you could ever think of. You say one more thing about her, and I swear it will be the last thing you say tonight.”

Todd jammed her hands up and roughly pushed Raelle away.

Raelle stumbled back, releasing her as she caught her footing. Todd angrily straightened her uniform jacket, “You think you can attack your superior and...”

“File a complaint with the General.” 

Todd motioned to say something, but quickly closed her mouth as Tally Craven stepped between them, a cheerful smile belying her wary eyes, “Hi, guys.”

Todd shot Raelle one last lingering glare before moving with a scoffed, “Craven.”

Tally turned to Raelle as the taller woman strutted away, “Want to tell me why it looked like you were about to windstrike her from across the room?”

Raelle shook her head, eyes never leaving the departing figure, “No.”

She bit back the nervous tingling deep in her belly telling her that Todd shouldn’t know about Scylla being Spree. That bit of information was supposed to be known only by a few people. 

“Ok,” Tally let it go, but her eyes said she’d be finding Raelle later to talk about it. Probably over lunch the following day, “Come on, I told Glory and Byron I’d get refills. Have you ordered anything? Abigail said the wine is horrible.”

* * *

Raelle marched to the table, scowl visible and eyes glinting with sparked anger. She tried to push it down, away, as she drew closer to the small group. Tally sped walked behind her, juggling drinks and casting worried gazes at her friend’s back.

Scylla glanced up from her conversation with Byron when the fixer was within reach, bright smile flickering and eyebrows scrunching together at the whirlwind barreling towards them. She silently searched the blonde’s eyes, easily accepting the drink pressed into her hand.

Raelle offered her a muted grin and clinked their glasses together, taking a healthy swallow of her bourbon, “Cheers.”

Scylla held her glass aloft peeking around her wife’s shoulder at the bar, where a few uniforms were standing around gossiping, and Tally, who only offered a helpless shrug, before returning her eyes to the ticking jaw and tense shoulders. Setting her drink down, she slipped her hand into Raelle’s, using the other to pluck the bourbon from her grasp and set it next to her own, “Come on.”

Raelle squinted in confusion.

Scylla rolled her eyes and began to drag her toward the dance floor, “You owe me a dance, Collar.”

“Ramshorn-Collar.” Raelle bit out, shoulders sinking at the slightly startled look Scylla tossed over her shoulder. “I…”

“Shhh,” Scylla led her to an open spot. She spun around, looping her arm across the younger witch’s shoulders and pulling her close, fingers easing against the nape of her neck to gently massage the tight muscles there as their joined hands drifted up, “Dance with me.” Both eyebrows raised challengingly along with the tilt of her lips, “Unless you can’t dance with your wife.”

A soft smile spread, “My wife?”

Scylla hummed, blue eyes lighting up as Raelle tucked her hand against her hip, palm sliding across to her lower back, “I heard you owe her a dance.”

“Oh?” Raelle tapped her fingers against the base of her spine, the pattern matching the beat of the song, “Have you met my wife?” She dipped in closer, “I heard she’s going to be sassy as hell tomorrow.”

Scylla pecked her lips, “Almost as bad as your hangover is going to be, Grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy.” Raelle spun them in a tiny circle, “And, I don’t get hungover.”

“Sure, honey.” 

Raelle’s eyes drifted to the side, and she unconsciously slowed to a stop, heart rate picking up and a headache forming as her teeth clamped down, a shot of pain stabbing along her jaw and up to her temple. Scylla immediately caught the change. Following the blonde’s eyeline and catching sight of a huddle of officers whispering feverishly together, she exhaled softly and shifted, touching Raelle’s chin, guiding her face back so angered steely greyish orbs met earnest ocean blue.

“Hey,” Scylla refused to release her gaze, “Dance with me. Be here with me.”

Raelle took a deep breath, pressing her lips together, “Scyl,”

“I know.” Scylla stepped in closer, dropping her hand back onto her shoulder, “You owe me a dance, Raelle. Forget about everyone else. You and me, right? That’s what you tell me. Unless you want to leave your wife alone on the dance floor?”

Releasing a breath, Raelle’s shoulders loosened ever so slightly, “Sorry.”

“You’re forgiven.” She smirked and brushed her lips across Raelle’s ear, “Are you going to prove to me you can dance, or do I need to get Byron? Maybe go find that student of mine? I’m sure even Anacostia...”

Her yelp was followed by a muffled laugh as Raelle suddenly spun them around and around, Scylla needing to hold on tightly as the world tilted and twirled in a flash of lights and music, their partner’s eyes and grin the only thing either could see in the blur. 

As they slowed to a stop, Raelle wet her lips, her entire vision solely on the woman in her arms, “I love you.”

Scylla studied her gaze, softening as she plumed blue depths, “I love you, too. Always. No matter what.” She brushed their lips together, “Dance with me before you show me this shortcut to your office.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good? Terrible? Meh? Want more Henley? Let me know your thoughts, pretty please!
> 
> Remember - cookie for reading, two cookies for reading and a kudos, a bazillion cookies for reading and commenting. Get yourself a cookie!


	16. Wassail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They had all morning to themselves. All morning to trade kisses for loving nips and let wandering hands discover and explore well known paths and places. No jobs to pull them out into the cold or drag them anywhere other than where they were right then.
> 
> Nowhere to go and nothing to do. No worries. No pressing responsibilities that would draw them away from their comfy little cocoon of blankets and bare skin barely covered by thin cotton pajamas. Nothing until the rumbling of tummies would lead them to a small breakfast full of affectionate gazes and steaming mugs.
> 
> A morning both had been dreaming about for days.
> 
> A morning for long heartfelt kisses and slow savoring touches.
> 
> A morning of hours in bed before slow dances in the kitchen as the tea kettle began to grow warm and the coffee maker sputtered to life.

The streets were quiet. Peaceful. The sun peeked along the horizon slowly, illuminating the edge of the world in sweeping oranges and pinks that swirled and dipped into a masterful tapestry of early morning dreams and late night wonders. The golden glow of the celestial star’s rays crept across rooftops and weaved along dim roads, the town barely awake except for the twinkling lights gracing the cold willowy sky from their perches along the outlines of windows and crevices of shingles like the stars disappearing from sight, finally allowed to rest until the sun slipped back beyond the darkness and allowed the moon to take over once more.

The land seemed to wink and sparkle like a sea of white. Softly falling flakes gracefully danced through the baby blue sky, bobbing and weaving, twirling and prancing, until they settled delicately on slumbering cars and tranquil lawns. The distant rumble of trucks readying to trudge through Mother Nature’s gift with salt and steel was the only sound to break the silence that hovered over the homes like a cozy blanket. The quilt of quiet snow remained unknown, a present left under the tree to be opened once eyes slowly fluttered and yawns stretched into smiles. When bare feet padded to glass windows and doors opened with gruff mutterings and joyful chuckles.

When people young and old tripped outside bundled up in coats and hats, gloves scooping up powdery puffs of Jack Frost’s breath to marvel at the fresh glow glimmering along fake plastic reindeer and likelife visages of a jolly old man in a big red suit with a large bag and penchant for snacking on cookies and milk. When rosy cheeks abounded and tiny elves scuttled off lest they be discovered amongst the blooming snow angels and tottering snowmen.

In one house, bereft of a sleigh but filled with just as much happiness, the sun trailed through an uncovered window. It let its gentle sheen glisten through the unmarked glass and carefully crept across the room. The beams rested along the rumpled sheets and crinkled covers of the bed, wrapping around the two women huddled close and revealing warm tender grins and matching rings.

Raelle nudged closer to her wife, hand gingerly skimming under the loose shirt and down her side, mutely entranced by the feel of the soft skin bare beneath her delicate touch. 

Even after all this time, she was still the prettiest girl Raelle had ever seen.

She always would be.

“Good morning.” Scylla mumbled, humming as lips gently pressed lazily against hers. 

“Morn’.” Raelle drawled, eyes still half closed and forehead coming to rest against the brunette’s, breaths mingling and sharing as noses bumped playfully.

It was a slow morning. Like honey, sweet and golden and taking its time.There was no work to worry about. School was on break and Raelle didn’t have to hop into the clinic until one of the others, or rather Lucy, called to tell her she had been gone long enough and needed to actually show up to her office to get a paycheck. Which meant she had the weekend unless someone stumbled in most likely having electrocuted themself setting up lights or set themselves on fire trying to bake cookies.

The staff could handle it.

They had all morning to themselves. All morning to trade kisses for loving nips and let wandering hands discover and explore well known paths and places. No jobs to pull them out into the cold or drag them anywhere other than where they were right then.

Nowhere to go and nothing to do. No worries. No pressing responsibilities that would draw them away from their comfy little cocoon of blankets and bare skin barely covered by thin cotton pajamas. Nothing until the rumbling of tummies would lead them to a small breakfast full of affectionate gazes and steaming mugs.

A morning both had been dreaming about for days.

A morning for long heartfelt kisses and slow savoring touches.

A morning of hours in bed before slow dances in the kitchen as the tea kettle began to grow warm and the coffee maker sputtered to life.

Scylla slipped her arm snuggly around Raelle’s hip and let her fingers drift up to lightly brush against the small of her wife’s back. She kissed the blonde gently, a tender touch of her lips that had Raelle dipping closer, faint taste of chocolate and cinnamon swirled with bourbon and champagne still on her tongue. Her palm flattened against her back as hips slotted together easily, the bedsheets shifting slightly with the twitch of a hand smoothing down the brunette’s thigh to hook it carefully over Raelle’s.

“You’re so beautiful.” Raelle whispered, eyes opening a bit further to reveal the happy blues that always made Scylla feel a comforting ache in her chest, “Prettiest gal around.”

Scylla smirked into the next kiss, “You’re still drunk.”

“No...no ma’am.” Raelle blinked hazily. “Collars don’t get drunk.”

“Ramshorn-Collar.”

“Them, too.” Raelle eased her fingers into messy wild brunette locks and let the silky strands twist and tangle along her knuckles.

“Must have been my other wife who wanted a late night after-party booty call.”

A grumpy frown, “Not a booty call.” 

She did totally hit on her wife, though.

Much to Abigail's amusement and chagrin as she watched the blonde interrupt her and Scylla’s conversation with eager eyes and a tipsy grin.

There may have been bourbon and champagne involved.

A lot of it.

And the way Scylla’s eyes danced in the shimmering lights and her body glowed as the music played quietly in the background.

She looked beautiful.

“And, you’re _not_ going to be hungover today?” Scylla’s eyebrow quirked, words pointedly sarcastic.

Raelle was totally going to be hungover.

Scylla had seen the small drinking game the younger witch and Byron had quietly started not too longer after the couple arrived at the Bellweather Yule party the night before.

Scylla was thankful Raelle hadn’t stumbled outside to find a few stalks of grass.

Though, Abigail’s face when Raelle interrupted their conversation with a molasses slow drawl to tell Scylla she was pretty and ask if she wanted to go home with her was worth the grumpiness that was to come.

_Raelle was tipsy._

_Ok, Raelle was drunk._

_Drunk enough that she couldn’t stop looking at her wife._

_Scylla Ramshorn-Collar was the most beautiful woman Raelle had ever seen._

_Hair swept up to reveal a long elegant neck. Jaw strong yet invitingly tasteful. Hands that regally held a still full glass of champagne aloft, ring sparkling like the tips of the ocean as the sun rose over the sea._

_Raelle wanted nothing more than to kiss her._

_Take her hand and get lost in her eyes._

_Ignoring whatever Byron and Glory were chatting about, Raelle casually made her way across the room, catching her wife’s eye and earning a heartstopping little grin that made her own heart skip._

_“Hey.” Raelle greeted casually as she reached the necro’s side. Her drawl coated the simple word like an old comfortable glove._

_“Hi.” Scylla looked her over, mouth slipping into a smirk._

_Abigail looked at the new arrival._

_And rolled her eyes._

Scylla was certain the youngest Bellweather would be calling soon to tease Raelle about it until Raelle’s cheeks were red and she was snarking back at her friend like they were teenagers again.

Followed by Byron’s call.

Tally would be kind enough to wait until they were face-to-face again.

“Best hangover cure is making love to your wife.” Raelle began to slowly roll Scylla onto her back.

“No, it’s not.” Scylla twirled her fingers in the faded t-shirt stretched across the back of Raelle’s shoulders.

“I’m a medic. Know things like this. Very important.” Raelle kissed her cheek once. Twice. Three times.

“Good thing you don’t get hangovers. Don’t have to worry about that.” Scylla cupped the nape of her neck.

“It’s good for other things, too.”

“Such as?” She tilted her head as lips moved to nip underneath her jaw.

“Exercise.”

Scylla ran her hand down Raelle’s back. Fingertips snuck under her shirt to tickle along her spine, “I do miss those morning push ups. Best part of my day.”

“Thought that was waking up beside your wife?”

“That’s you, honey.”

Raelle nipped at the curve of her jaw, “We’re having sex if you’re being this sassy.”

“Only if I’m being this sassy?”

“You _are_ just using me for sex.”

“Among other things.” Scylla pressed up into her, “Still need you to fix that stair.”

“It’s on the list.” Raelle mumbled, lips attached to her neck.

“Along with making love to your wife?”

“Top priority.” Raelle sucked gently, “Happy wife, happy life.”

“Goddess, the sex better be good if you’re saying things like that.”

“It’s always good, baby.”

“Eh.”

“Eh?” Raelle tickled her sides, earning a giggle as Scylla squirmed underneath her. “Good enough to get that ring on your finger and you in my bed.”

Before Scylla could respond, there was a tiny crash outside their closed bedroom door. Both women blinked at each other before Raelle rather gracelessly flopped away from her wife.

Miniature feet pounded on the floor.

The two shared a quick glance. Raelle tugged at the collar of her shirt to straighten it as Scylla ran a hand through her unruly hair.

The door flung open dramatically, almost hitting the wall.

Raelle cringed in anticipation of the noise.

Goddess, that girl was going to break something.

“Mom! Mama!” Henley excitedly tumbled into the room. Six years old and as tall as a grasshopper according to her Grandpa Edwin, the little Ramshorn-Collar had her mom’s eyes and her mama’s penchant for running headfirst into whatever was in front of her, whether it was an adventure in the mushroom garden or waking her parents up at the crack of dawn with gleeful delight. Her purple shirt was twisted and scrunched up from sleep, and her small cotton pajama pants with pentagrams and stars her aunt Tally had gifted her for her birthday were swishing around, the ends threatening to trip her. Eyes bright and smile as wide as it could go, she scrambled up onto the bed, “Snow!”

Raelle froze for a second at the word.

Snow.

Damn it.

Scylla smiled softly at their daughter as the little girl nestled between the two, “Good morning, honey.”

Henley waved her hands, “Snow!” She bounced a bit against the mattress, “Can we play?”

Scylla reached out to tuck an unruly lock behind her ear, hair just like her own, “Why don’t you go brush your teeth and get dressed. I’m sure your mama will be ready to go out with you by then.”

Raelle’s head whipped up to stare at Scylla, betrayal clear.

The brunette could already see the slight pinching around her eyes and mouth.

Raelle was going to be really hungover.

She wouldn’t be surprised if she was passed out by noon.

With the grumpiest face she could muster.

After getting a face full of snow.

“Ok!” Henley clambered away in a rush, leaving just as quickly as she had arrived. A whirlwind of energy and chaos.

Edwin was going to have his hands full when he stopped by to visit soon.

Footsteps receding toward the other bedroom, the room grew quiet.

Raelle’s eyes narrowed as Scylla met her gaze, “Her _mama_ will be ready?” 

Raelle was Cession born and raised.

She hadn’t even seen snow until she enlisted.

And, with the pain starting to form behind her eyes and her body beginning to ache, she did not want to go throw herself head first into it.

She wanted to make love to her wife and pass out in her arms.

“Thought you weren’t drunk or hungover, Rae.”

Raelle knew that smirk.

That mirthful look.

Lunging, Raelle flipped onto Scylla, drawing out a joyous laugh, “So mean to me.”

Scylla snagged the front of her shirt and pulled her closer, “Mean enough to make breakfast and help you find your winter boots?”

“It’s the weekend. Why can’t we stay here?”

“Because your daughter wants to play in the snow.”

“ _My_ daughter?”

Scylla hummed, “We both know you love it, too.”

Raelle lowered her head toward her lips, “What is it I love?”

“Mama! Let’s go!” Henley’s voice rang out from the hallway.

Raelle’s head dropped as Scylla rubbed her back.

So much for a slow lazy morning.

“I’ll find Hen’s boots. I think yours are in the closet.” Scylla spoke up.

Raelle nodded and kissed her cheek before climbing out of the bed.

“This is why we should have had two.” Raelle grumbled, teetering as the world spun a bit, “They could distract each other.”

Scylla slid out after her, “One is more than enough for us. Can you imagine two of them?” 

“Can we give her back? Get one that sleeps in and doesn’t like the cold?”

“Not how it works, honey.” She curled her hand around Raelle’s hip, face turning serious, “Are you ok? Tell me if you’re still drunk, Raelle. Or if you can’t do this.” She was more than happy to tease her wife, but if Raelle was really not feeling well, she could distract Henley long enough to let her get a bit more sleep. “Let me link with you quickly.” She could help ease the tenseness around baby blue eyes. 

Raelle inhaled deeply and shook her head, “I’m ok. Promise.” She huffed, “The cold will wake me up.”

“You’re sure? It won’t take long, and you don’t need to act tough right now.”

“I’m sure.” Raelle pecked her cheek, “I can handle it. Been through worse.”

Scylla sent her a look.

Raelle sent her one back.

“Ok.” Scylla let her hand fall away and stepped toward the door, “Tell me if it gets too much. I mean it, Raelle.”

“Ok.” 

“I love you.”

“Love you, too.” Raelle opened the closet and crouched down to look at where her boots might be.

“Bacon and eggs? As greasy as possible? Hashbrowns?”

“Marry me?” she glanced over her shoulder.

Scylla casually flashed her ring, “I’ll get you some water. Don’t forget to put on a thick sweatshirt.”

Reaching up and over to snag a well worn and slightly frayed hoodie from where it had been haphazardly thrown one day on top of the dresser, Raelle tossed it to Scylla, “Here. It’ll be cold downstairs.”

“Thanks,” Scylla slipped into it. The hood sat a bit awkwardly, and she fiddled with it, wondering briefly whatever happened to the string for it.

Raelle waved a hand and went back to her search.

It was going to be a long morning.

Had the sun even really risen, or was it just the lights from the neighbors?

Maybe she could sneak in a few more seconds of sleep before stumbling down the stairs and out into the muck.

“If you tire our daughter out enough that she takes a nap, we could get a few hours to ourselves. _We_ could take a nap.” 

“Nap sounds nice.” Raelle mumbled to herself. Her head was starting to pound.

“Or, we could do something else.” She winked as she walked out the door, “It’s been a while since we used that _thing_ in the drawer. Can make sure it hasn’t gathered too much dust along with your rust.”

Raelle paused for a moment as the words registered in her mind. 

That thing in the drawer.

That thing.

In the drawer.

Suddenly her aching head didn’t ache as much. She perked up a bit, grin forming, “I love you.”

Henley could be heard racing to the stairs as Scylla sent her one last smirk before following after the little girl.

Two hours later, Henley was fast asleep on the couch, knees hooked over the arm with her head pillowed in Scylla’s lap. Raelle was quietly slumbering against Scylla’s other side, head nuzzled into her shoulder and legs splayed out to the floor. The brunette silently read her book and sometimes glanced down at her family.

Outside, a lopsided snowperson with short stubby stick arms and a scarf wrapped around their neck stood proudly in the wintery wonderland.


	17. Tender Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was tired. Her eyes felt heavy and her limbs slow. Time seemed to have crawled to a sedate pace. Only the change in song from the radio and the subtle clattering of cups and pots denoted the tick of the clock. The world had welcomed itself to a lazy pace. Slow and steady. The universe blinking hazily and preparing for a nap.
> 
> It had been a long day. A long few months. A year, even. Between trying to stay on top of the courses she would be teaching next semester, answering phone calls from different professors, a few from Abigail, and even one from Izadora about her research, and supporting Raelle as Willa made a bigger reappearance in their lives, it was all a bit much for her exhausted body.
> 
> The lack of sleep didn’t help.
> 
> Glancing down at the slumbering infant in her arms, she couldn’t be mad, though. Couldn’t find it within herself to be frustrated or angered or annoyed.
> 
> No, not at all.

The radio could be heard from its perch in the kitchen, a muttering of a melody that was catchy if she paid attention long enough to hear more than a few notes here and there. A docile Christmas tune, one of many the local stations had been playing nonstop since the air grew colder and the days shorter. Outside, the snow was falling. Small delicate flakes that dusted the front stoop and provided a carpet of pristine untouched white to the driveway and out to the sea of rolling drifts and airy icy hills of the street. Shining icicles hung precariously from the roof, and the windows were a frosty opaque view out to the peaceful weeknight evening. 

Inside, the room was warm and cozy. The radio, the shuffling of feet, and opening and closing of cupboards provided a comforting soundtrack to the tranquil moment. Scylla leaned back into the couch, letting the cushions pillow her sore back and lull her into a bit of dreamy contentment. 

She was tired. Her eyes felt heavy and her limbs slow. Time seemed to have crawled to a sedate pace. Only the change in song from the radio and the subtle clattering of cups and pots denoted the tick of the clock. The world had welcomed itself to a lazy pace. Slow and steady. The universe blinking hazily and preparing for a nap.

It had been a long day. A long few months. A year, even. Between trying to stay on top of the courses she would be teaching next semester, answering phone calls from different professors, a few from Abigail, and even one from Izadora about her research, and supporting Raelle as Willa made a bigger reappearance in their lives, it was all a bit much for her exhausted body.

The lack of sleep didn’t help.

Glancing down at the slumbering infant in her arms, she couldn’t be mad, though. Couldn’t find it within herself to be frustrated or angered or annoyed.

No, not at all.

Tender smile tugging at her lips, Scylla gently rocked the baby swaddled in a dark brown and yellow hand knit quilt. She eased the edge of the woolen yarn up toward a pert little chin and nose and tucked the intricate stitching more snug around a carefully breathing chest and tiny feet.

The little blanket was beautiful. A gorgeous pattern lovingly woven with colors and designs reminiscent of the Cession. Of dreamcatchers and fields of wildflowers and unending trails. Of old stories passed down through generations and protective charms. Of guiding creatures and a people tied to their land.

A replacement while the purple blanket with gold stars and pentagrams was washed.

Henley loved the new blanket.

It was a gift from Willa. 

It had been the same blanket she’d wrapped Raelle in when she was first born. A gift from Edwin’s mother. 

One that would be recreated when Raelle was older. The blonde’s grandmother fashioned something for Raelle to keep with her when times were tough and the world seemed cold and dark. A large quilt of memories and strength that remained with Raelle as she grew up and journeyed to Fort Salem as a young cadet, gloomy and prepared for a short life and quick end far away from her home. 

The large quilt was a piece of the Collars that would more than likely end up on Henley’s bed when she got bigger. Same as the one currently wrapped around the child in Scylla’s arms.

Henley scrunched up her face as Scylla stared down at her. A cute little twitch of her nose and a gurgling sigh.

Scylla bit her lip at the adorable sight. She lightly bounced her a bit, watching as her daughter’s face slowly drifted back into a picture of sleepy softness. 

Scylla’s brow furrowed thoughtfully.

This was her daughter.

Her daughter.

Her and Raelle’s.

Scylla’s heart squeezed at the thought.

This was _their_ child.

Theirs.

This was their family.

She had a family.

A wife and daughter.

Scylla bit her lip harder, a lump starting to form in her throat. Part exhaustion and part wonder, she swallowed roughly.

To think, she had been so afraid of this little girl. Of wanting her. Dreaming of her. Having her. Believing this could be true. That she and Raelle could be here like this. Could give this girl the life she deserved. One without fear of conscription or death or slavery by another name. One without fear of war or fighting or pain. Without fear of loss. Of despair. 

One where she would never know what it was like to watch the people she loved die. 

To have to say goodbye to them.

To be forced to give up her own life for something meaningless. For something she had no say in. No power over.

To know what it was like to walk away from someone she loved. To have that person walk away from her.

To be told that someone she loved was not coming home.

For her and Raelle to be told their child was gone forever.

She still was afraid.

So many things could happen to this little girl. 

But, Scylla wouldn’t give her up for anything. 

Would never take back her choice to start a family.

The moment she said yes to Raelle wanting them to have a child was one of the best decisions she’d ever made.

It didn’t matter that they both barely slept. That Raelle had nearly walked into a wall more than once or that Scylla couldn’t remember the last time she didn’t feel like she could fall asleep that very second. That her back and feet ached for months. That her and Raelle hadn’t had sex in who knows how long, too tired and always seeming to be greeted by a crying child in need of protection and care. That Raelle was, that they both were, trying to accept the fact they were letting Willa into their lives again because this was her granddaughter, and Raelle might not trust her mother, neither of them did, but she couldn’t keep Willa away from Henley. Not if Willa would be there for the youngest Ramshorn-Collar the way she hadn’t been for Raelle. 

Neither Scylla nor Raelle could keep Willa away from her family. They might have their problems with Willa. So many problems. But, they both knew what it was like to grow up without family. If Willa was able to be someone who cared for her grandchild and able to be someone Henley could count on...well...there had been a lot of discussions.

A lot of discussions.

Neither could bring themselves to forget or fully forgive Willa for all she had done.

For the way she lied. Manipulated. Broke Raelle and Edwin’s hearts. Hide from Scylla her true self and motivation for wanting Raelle brought back to the Spree.

But, she was Raelle’s mother.

She had shown she loved Raelle.

She was Henley’s grandmother.

She could show she loved Henley.

She was a part of their lives, and she would be a part of Henley’s.

Willa wasn’t the only one who was a part of this little girl’s life, though.

There were others.

So many others.

Her smile unknowingly widened as she thought about all the people who somehow had entered her life and never left.

Who were now a part of Henley’s life.

Edwin’s face when he first saw Henley. He had cried when he held her. 

Anacostia waiting outside the delivery room. Being there when Raelle was able to leave her wife’s side to tell them they now had a baby girl. The officer’s normally stoic countenance melting away when Henley opened her eyes and stared up at her for the first time. 

Abigail awkwardly cradled the child until Henley reached up toward her. How their friend quietly vowed to never let anything happen to her as she lightly grasped the small fist in her own. 

Tally’s jubilation. Her beaming smile as she started telling the baby stories about her parents and all the great things Henley would do when she was older.

Glory. Byron. Izadora. Raelle’s former staff at Fort Salem. Scylla’s colleagues at STC. Lucy.

So many people who wanted to meet this little girl.

Who cared about this child.

Who littered them with toys and games and cute little clothes. Offered to babysit and threatened to steal their adorable child away. Abigail and Tally were already arguing over who was going to be the best aunt. 

Byron had proudly proclaimed himself the favorite uncle.

Even Adil and Khalida had called them. 

A group of people who supported the Ramshorn-Collars without needing to be asked.

Anacostia had been with Scylla when she went into labor and Abigail had arrived soon after, making the call to the clinic to let her friend know she was about to be a mama. They stayed with her until Raelle showed up, red faced and winded. 

Lucy had a fresh batch of cookies delivered for Scylla. Her favorite kind.

Glory had quietly made sure their refrigerator and cupboards were stocked with ready to heat meals.

Scylla blinked, her eyes stinging.

There were two people missing, though.

She wished her parents were there.

They would have loved Henley.

Her mom would have known what to do whenever Henley cried. Would have cooed over her and hugged Scylla so hard. Her dad would have held and rocked Henley for hours, happy to read the multitude of storybooks their friends and family had gifted them. Stories about princesses and pirates and adventures galore.

Her parents would have hugged Raelle. Congratulated her. Loved her.

Her parents would have loved the family Scylla found. Would have been proud.

The family Scylla almost never had.

Because Raelle was a soldier who was supposed to have died.

Didn’t even survive her first deployment.

A body left behind in China. Another private straight out of basic turned into war meat.

Raelle was supposed to be lost to her.

Not be the fixer who married her and worked a normal job in a clinic in town.

Scylla was never supposed to fall in love.

Not with her mark. Not with anyone.

She wasn’t supposed to fight for one person. Fight for a future. Fight to be in love.

She wasn’t supposed to have a ring on her finger.

She wasn’t supposed to say yes when Raelle said they should have a kid.

She wasn’t supposed to be sitting in their house, watching her infant daughter, her and her wife’s, sleep, safe and snug in her arms.

None of this was supposed to happen.

Raelle was supposed to be gone and Scylla was meant to be sacrificing everything for the Cause because the Cause was all she had left. 

Yet, there she was.

Holding her baby. Ring on her finger and wife puttering in the kitchen.

With a mortgage and a job and bickering over chores.

Tired but the both of them still in love.

Still together.

Still Raelle and Scylla.

The Ramshorn-Collars.

Witches free to live their lives.

To live.

“Hey.” Raelle whispered, breaking Scylla out of her thoughts.

Scylla peeked up to see Raelle standing beside her, mug in hand. Bags under her eyes and thin faded grey t-shirt crooked on her lithe frame, the blonde looked like she would fall asleep in an instant.

But, there was a joy around the curve of her mouth and a sparkle in her eyes that told Scylla she wasn’t going anywhere, and she certainly wasn’t going to miss out on this.

“Trade ya.” Raelle winked. She eased down on the couch beside Scylla. Carefully, Scylla handed Henley to Raelle and took the mug in exchange. She let the steam wafting up from the beverage soothe her eyes and nose before taking a grateful sip of the smooth mellow tea.

It tasted perfect.

Raelle slowly maneuvered Henley into the crook of her arm, face lighting up as she nudged the blanket up to rub against the baby’s cheek. “She’s gonna be a great fixer.”

“Necro.” Scylla took another sip, “Even Izadora thinks so.”

“You necros trying to recruit my kid.” Raelle playfully rolled her eyes, “Collars are fixers. She’s got Collar blood in her.”

“She’s also a Ramshorn.”

“As long as she’s not a damn blaster.” Raelle’s eyes widened, “Shi...shucks. Sorry. Language.” She brushed her thumb along the tuft of hair sticking out from the top of Henley’s head, “Forgot you don’t get to say those words.”

“Don’t let Abigail hear you say that.” The Bellweather would be ecstatic if Raelle and Scylla’s kid turned out to be a blaster. 

“She’d probably be more upset that Henley refuses to wear the little Army onesie she bought her.” Raelle grinned down at her daughter, “You’re gonna be the best fixer around. Look just like your mom.”

“She’s got your smile.” Scylla took another sip, savoring the warmth as it drifted down to her belly.

“No, it’s yours. She already looks just like you. Going to be a heartbreaker.” Raelle winked at her wife, “I’ll make sure she can tell the difference between real Cession moonshine and that fake stuff, though.”

“Are you going to teach her how to be grumpy when she’s hungover, too? Break a few windows?”

“I don’t get grumpy. Or hungover.” Raelle frowned. 

Scylla quirked an eyebrow.

“I don’t.” Raelle turned her eyes back to Henley, “Your mom is being mean to me. She does that. But, you’re not mean at all. Which means you’re going to sleep all night tonight.”

Both parents knew she wouldn’t.

Scylla lowered the mug to sit against her thigh, and she leaned over, resting her shoulder against Raelle’s to gaze down at Henley. Raelle tilted her head, pressing a kiss to her temple, “Laundry day she wakes up five minutes after we put her down.”

Scylla raised the bet, “Laundry day and a back massage that she sleeps till around one am.”

“Feeling confident, Scyl?”

“As confident as you are that you’re wrong.”

“Is that...sass? Are you being sassy with me?” Raelle smirked, “Are we about to have sex?”

“Not if she wakes up five minutes after we put her down.”

“I can be quick.”

“Not that quick.”

“One am?”

Scylla leaned further against her, “We both know you’ll be asleep the second you lay down.”

“No, I won’t.” She stifled a yawn.

She totally would.

They both would.

It was a miracle they were both still awake even then.

Scylla just hummed, “Let’s stay here for a few more minutes.”

A few more minutes, then they could put Henley in her crib and do their best to get a few hours of sleep before one of them got up to check on her. It was Raelle’s night. Scylla would still probably wake up, though. Lie there and imagine Raelle picking up their daughter. Holding her. Whispering and shushing her back to the land of dreams. Wait until Raelle slid back into bed and wrapped her arms around her before drifting off once more.

Raelle looked at her. Her eyes deepend with affection, “Yeah. Ok.” She kissed her head, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

“Scylla?”

“Hmm?”

“I think we have the best kid.”

“Yeah. We do.”

“She’s going to grow up to be amazing. Just like my wife. Have you met my wife?”

“Was she the one who told you to take your keys with you today and you forgot anyway?”

“We really need to have sex soon if you’re going to sass me.”

Scylla just took another sip of tea and curled further against Raelle’s side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all can blame the snow storm for these recent updates.
> 
> Good? Bad? Indifferent? You know the cookie system. Cookie for reading. Anther cookie for kudos. Cookies galore for commenting.


	18. Zombie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You mean when you dragged me to the ice cream shop because I owed you for being late? Since I command military transport schedules. And you got that PB&J shake since they ran out of strawberry and used grape jelly.”
> 
> “Yep.” Henley nodded with a laugh. “Strawberry jelly does not belong on a PB&J.” 
> 
> No, it didn’t.
> 
> Grape jelly and no crust, if you didn’t want to be a monster.
> 
> Holding the mug in both hands, the slight shake invisible except for the tiny unsettling of the remaining liquid in the mug, Allison took a breath, “Do you remember the first winter I spent with you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok Folks! Listen Up!!!!!!
> 
> This one is slightly different.
> 
> Takes place during the last chapter of Sidecar!!! I repeat - last chapter of Sidecar. (When Henley and Allison visit the Ramshorn-Collars)
> 
> Yep, it's like that.

The winter afternoon light was fading fast, days short and nights long.

Nights Allison secretly dreaded.

Nights she wished would stay away a bit longer.

Nights where she tried to remember the things Raelle told her. Tried to think of the calming voice the retired officer used when speaking to her. Think of the way Scylla’s presence felt as they sat there with mugs of tea, not needing to talk, Scylla patient, there, if Allison chose to talk to her. Raelle’s hand on her shoulder, warm and solid, steady, stabilizing, as she hobbled by her. 

Henley’s arms wrapped around her. Breath hot on her neck. Body like a cozy quilt. Hands anchoring her to the earth. To the bed. To them. To what they used to be. To what the younger woman would always be to Allison. An anchor to that exact moment in time.

Inhaling, the blaster brought the cooling mug of tea to her lips and sipped the freshly steamed brew. The calming chamomile warmed her throat and slid down to her belly, soothing and providing a small sense of comfort. She glanced down at the mug. The same mug that she had seen throughout the years. The mug Henley had gifted her parents when she was little. It was worn, the handle rubbed smooth from being held countless times and a tiny chip on the lip from a story that still caused Scylla to roll her eyes and Raelle to grin both sheepishly and smugly. It was well cared for, otherwise, though. A sign of parents who loved their child. Who cherished her. Who wanted to preserve her innocence. Her childhood. Her hopes and dreams and a life where the biggest problem was wondering how to get two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches instead of one.

A life where they were still young. 

She felt so old.

Her file told that she was still in her early twenties. Still without the wrinkles and grey hairs of old age.

Yet, she felt like she’d lived a lifetime.

Maybe even two.

She mentally rolled her eyes and scoffed at herself.

She made it sound so dramatic.

Like this wasn’t what she signed up for. Expected.

Her hand shook subtly.

It wouldn’t stop shaking.

Closing her eyes for a moment, Allison willed it to stop.

It didn’t.

Feeling a presence beside her, Allison let her eyes drift up toward the window and the hazy beams of yellow sunlight filtering through, tiny particles dancing like fireflies or fairies in the stripes. Another chair at the kitchen table scraped against the floor as it pulled out, and the person gently sat down. Quiet.

It was never this quiet.

Not like this.

Not between them.

Not...not always.

Fort Salem was loud. Loud with orders and marching and traditions. Expectations.

It sometimes quieted when she was pressed against Henley. Lost in the feel of her mouth against her own. In memories and wants and needs that they couldn’t acknowledge because it didn’t work. They didn’t work. They tried. Tried so hard. And failed.

They failed.

Still.

Allison could turn into her arms, tuck her nose in her neck, and be lost.

Lost in her.

Lost in the quiet.

The quiet that hovered around them until she fell asleep.

Quiet until her or Henley said something that set the other person off. Usually about their careers. Their goals. Aspirations. About what they wanted out of life. Needed. About relationships. Trust. Wants. What was important. Who they were. Who they would be. Could be.

How they fit.

If they fit.

The cord that tied them together, never let the other stray too far, frazzled and frayed but never severed, twisted and tangled up because there was love but...there was so much else.

Everything else.

And everything else was a lot.

It had turned out to be too much.

Because they fought for each other. They fought against each other.

They fought.

So much fighting.

Struggling.

Working.

Yet...in that moment...that weekend…

There was struggle.

There was work.

There was fighting.

But it wasn’t against each other.

Allison would have laughed at herself if she could.

She fell in love when she was a teenager and didn’t even know what love was.

A child, as her mother used to say. Delusional. Misled. Stupid. A dissapointment.

Even when it all ended, Allison still felt it.

The love never left.

It didn’t change. 

Everything else did.

She did.

Henley did.

She was finally getting what she wanted. Fast track to captain. To gaining more stripes on her shoulders. More pins on her chest. Her sash. Promotions. A command of her own.

And, here she was, in her ex-girlfriend’s parents’ home.

Hiding the way her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

Only able to fall asleep because she half-knew Henley would show up at some point to chase the ghosts of explosions and storms away.

“Mom and Mama are going into town.” Henley’s voice seemed muted in the silence as she settled into the chair. Like, if the older witch closed her eyes, she could hear the gentle sound as a rolling wave far off in the ocean, creeping carefully up the wet sand of the beach, turning the golden flakes into dark brown sticky puddy before pulling it back out to sea. Like it was on the beams of sunlight, a whisper on the rays of the soon to be setting sun.

“I think Mama is trying to get Mom to grab a pizza for dinner.” Henley smiled, “Mom already told me she would, but she’s seeing how much Mama is willing to work to get it.”

Allison felt a small smile stretch her own lips, “Let me guess. Raelle’s already tried hitting on her.”

“First option. Failed miserably.” Henley agreed with a solemn nod.

Allison chuckled lightly, “What’s Scylla trying to get?”

“Think Mom’s been skipping the dishes again.”

“Raelle is always skipping the dishes.”

A shrug, “It’s been how many years? And Mama still hasn’t given up on her.” She bit her lip, “Don’t think she’s going to start now.”

Allison nodded, her chest jolting at the unsaid words. Twisting the mug in her hand, she slowly held it out to the necro. Without a word, Henley easily took it and brought it to her mouth for a sip. She quietly hummed at the taste, “Nothing better than a cup of tea.”

Allison’s eyebrow rose, and she tilted her head to smirk at Henley, “Nothing?”

Henley thought about it for a second, then matched her smirk with one of her own, “An ice cream sundae is pretty good.”

“How can you eat ice cream in the middle of winter?”

“We’re at the beach.” Henley took another sip before handing the mug back, noticing the slight tremble in the taller girl’s hand, “Besides, weren’t you the one who ordered a giant hot fudge sundae right after you got back?”

“You mean when you dragged me to the ice cream shop because I owed you for being late? Since I command military transport schedules. And you got that PB&J shake since they ran out of strawberry and used grape jelly.”

“Yep.” Henley nodded with a laugh. “Strawberry jelly does not belong on a PB&J.” 

No, it didn’t.

Grape jelly and no crust, if you didn’t want to be a monster.

Holding the mug in both hands, the slight shake invisible except for the tiny unsettling of the remaining liquid in the mug, Allison took a breath, “Do you remember the first winter I spent with you?”

Henley blinked and frowned at the random question.

Allison wet her lips and stared at the sunlight, “I was all set to go home. We had a break from War College. You hadn’t even enlisted yet.”

She had been about to.

About to choose the military over college.

About to find out her parents never wanted her to join.

“I hadn’t seen you since your graduation.”

A nod. “I was going to go home. Attend a bunch of Yule balls. Make connections. Show that I was ready to be promoted to the officers that would fast track me.” She scoffed, “Find someone to give me a quick power boost before I met the General. Assess the best matches for a five year marriage. Spend time with the families that mattered.Do exactly as I was supposed to. Like my mother wanted. Stand by her side as I made a good impression. I was ready.” She finally looked at Henley, “Instead, I listened to you.”

_Clutching the phone to her ear, Allison turned her shoulder, blocking out the muddle of soldiers lazily chatting nearby._

_She wished she was alone._

_Safe._

_Could focus only on the voice at the other end of the line. Only on the feelings that hearing the other girl seemed to ignite inside of her, no matter how much she acted like they weren’t there when they first got together. Didn’t even try to fight the way her smile formed and grew. Eyes softened. Body relaxed._

_Concentrated on the girl who wanted to walk her home._

_Forget about where she was. That anyone else existed._

_She couldn’t lose focus, though. Not with so many others around._

_But, it had been so long._

_“Allison?” Henley’s voice tinkled through the line._

_“Yes. I’m listening.” Allison closed her eyes for a second. Let herself refocus for a breath._

_There was a pause. Then, “Come home.”_

_“What?”_

_Henley plunged forward, “You’re getting leave, right? Time away for break? Come home. Spend it with me.”_

_Allison froze._

_What?_

_“Allison,” Henley sighed quietly, “I miss you. I haven’t seen you since your graduation. We both know you don’t really want to go to your mom’s. I promise it will be fun. My parents like you. A lot. There’s...we can look at the lights the neighbors put up. Drink so much hot chocolate. I’ll make sure we have marshmallows. We could go on a date. Maybe get ice cream or go to a movie or...just walk around. Just you and me.” Henley chuckled, “Mama will probably get super drunk and propose to my mom one night. Aunt Glory already sent us some sort of bourbon that mama’s claimed is only for hot toddies. Mom got this new tea I think you’ll like. You could meet my Grandpa. He’s the best. He always comes over around this time. Mama’s drawl gets really thick when he’s around. Mom already mentioned something about...”_

_Allison’s heart seized as the girl went on._

_It sounded...happy._

_Fun._

_Not like the times she spent at her own home. Silent. Cold. Her mother either at Fort Salem or sending her borderline disappointed and judgmental looks. Mild indifference if it was a good day. Spoke starkly worded reminders about how Allison would need to be ready for basic and then War College and then being an officer. Should spend time with a select few other families whose lines descended throughout history and held ranks far above most. Needed to remember who she was. What she was meant to do and be._

_The woman who continually checked in. Wondered why Allison was still speaking with the youngest Ramshorn-Collar._

_The mother who didn’t approve._

_Who had taught her about her culture. Witchery. Being a High Atlantic. An officer._

_That there were expectations. Protocols. Traditions._

_What a family was._

_What love was...or wasn’t._

_Which social class and relationships and people mattered._

_“Hen…”_

_“I love you.” Henley cut her off. “I love you, and I miss you. Come home, Allison. Please.”_

Henley watched her face, studying her eyes, the curve of her mouth, the way her lashes flickered. “I wanted to be with you more than anything. Missed you. Thought...thought we could be us again.”

Allison nodded and rubbed at her eye before dropping her hand onto the table. She set the mug down and curled her hands into fists on top of the wood.

“Allison…”

“I tried to forget about you sometimes. Never worked. You know that.” Her head shook softly, “I never understood you. Your family.” She stared at her hands, unable to meet Henley’s deep blues, “You always said I did. That I knew what I was getting into. Your...your family is great, Henley. Your mom and mama have been good to me, even when I wasn’t good to you.”

“Allison, what’s going on?” Henley grabbed her hand. She worked her fingers across the back of Allison’s palm to lightly touch her wrist and dipped her head to try to catch her eye.

“Nothing. Just...thinking.” Allison bit her lip. She swallowed roughly, “I remember when you guys came to get me.”

_Allison adjusted her posture as she walked down the corridor. She straightened her spine, shoulders pulled back and face forward._

_A messenger had arrived at her door while she was doing a last minute check of her bag._

_She was wanted in Maj. Bellweather’s office._

_Settling her face into a mask of neutrality, Allison stopped just outside the closed door._

_She didn’t know why the officer wanted to see her._

_Had her mother said something?_

_Had she performed inadequately at training?_

_Maj. Bellweather rarely interacted with Allison. She was too far up the ranks to spend time with a lowly private._

_And she wasn’t someone her mother identified as being a leader to focus on._

_Not the Bellweathers._

_Not anymore._

_If her mother had her way, never again._

_Double checking her uniform for any creases, the tall woman raised her hand and quickly knocked on the barrier._

_“Come in!”_

_Allison opened the door and stepped inside, “Maj. Bellweather, ma’am…”_

_Her words trailed off._

_Abigail Bellweather sat behind her desk, leaned back in her chair and bemused expression on her face as she rolled her eyes. Standing beside her desk, hands gesturing, was Raelle Ramshorn-Collar._

_Abigail glanced at the new arrival, “Pvt. Todd. It’s about time. I’ve had to deal with this one for hours.”_

_“You called me for a consult, Bells.” Raelle shot back. “How have you not found someone who knows anything about fixing, yet? At least promote Larson or someone.”_

_“No one wants it.” Abigail waved her off. “And, it’s not my call.”_

_“Ma’am?” Allison looked between the two._

_“I’m here to break you out.” Raelle turned toward the youngest witch. “Car is parked by the infirmary. My kid should be around here somewhere. I think Tally snagged her before she could go running off to find you. Scylla’s at home. Didn’t want to waste hours with this one while I cleaned up another mess. She’s excited to see you.” She tilted toward Abigail, “I’m retired, you know. Have a job and everything.”_

_Abigail shot her a look, “Trying to make sure Scylla doesn’t divorce you?”_

_“Full time job. A bit of overtime some weeks.”_

_Allison’s brow furrowed, “You’re here to break me out?” Henley was there?_

_“Yes. Let’s go. I swear, if Tal’s tried to kidnap my kid again…”_

_“That was when she was five, Raelle.” Abigail tossed out, “And she threatened to keep her because she was too cute.”_

_“That’s the only one you know of. She can get her own kid. Look,” Raelle pointed at Allison as she walked toward her, “I got a second one half-priced.” She nodded at Allison, “Come on. I know a shortcut. This could take a while. Scylla is always better at finding people than I am.”_

“Aunt Tally dragged me away the moment I got out of the car. Then Larson showed up and wanted to see how I was doing. All of mama’s former staff did.” Henley rubbed her thumb along Allison’s knuckles, “I remember when you walked up with Mama. I almost knocked you over, I hugged you so tight.”

“Hugged? You jumped on me.” 

“To hug you.”

Allison ducked her head, “It was the best winter I ever had.”

Henley’s thumb paused.

Allison could somehow remember it clearly. Like it happened yesterday instead of years ago. Not separated by War College, graduation, deployments. By breakups and heartbreaks.

There had been card games. Music. Laughter.

Waking up with Henley in her arms.

Waking up to a cozy house with framed pictures of smiling faces and so many stories.

Dodging a verbal zinger sent her way while scooping up a bite of pancake soaked in syrup, her girlfriend holding her hand on top of the table. 

Sipping her coffee while she watched her girlfriend’s parents playfully bicker about anniversaries and who was in charge of washing the dishes that night.

Catching glimpses of Raelle and Scylla whispering to each other. Scylla fixed the collar of Raelle’s shirt while Raelle swept Scylla’s hair back from her face and behind her ear.

Henley snuggled up against her side as they watched television. Head against her chest and dozing. Her breaths lulling Allison into a nap.

Finding herself yelling at Raelle to remember her keys.

Waking up late one night to find Scylla waiting for her down in the kitchen with a mug of tea ready to be sipped. The necro explaining it was either going to be her or Henley. How Allison found herself wanting to unwittingly confess about how hard it could be sometimes. Basic. War College. How she looked at her and Raelle and it made her skin itch but her heart feel light and heavy at the same time. How she looked at Henley and her hands ached to reach out to her while her stomach churned with how she kept talking about wanting things Allison didn’t comprehend. Things that Allison sometimes found herself wanting too, but then would blink those thoughts away. 

How she just didn’t know.

Couldn’t...how the longer she was there...the more torn up she found herself inside.

The more she found herself having been pulled and prodded in one direction while at Fort Salem and tugged and led in another while within these four walls.

Her mind said one thing. Told her what to focus on. How to become an officer faster than anyone else. To rise through the ranks. To rise through society’s circles.

Her heart was haunted by blue eyes. By a loving smile. By confusing whispers she pushed down and away.

How Henley sometimes spoke about things that weren’t normal. 

How normal was standing in formation on the parade grounds or knowing sex was something to be enjoyed, a way to expand her power, and little more than that. That rank within the military and society mattered. That relationships didn’t last. Not like this. 

That witches didn’t commit.

Didn’t stay together. 

Wondered if expressing those doubts out loud would ruin everything.

So, she said nothing.

Sat there and sipped tea while exchanging small talk with Scylla or staring silently into the night.

It surprised her when Raelle sidled up beside her the next morning and told her a few stories from her time in the army. Simple stories from basic. A few tips she’d learned along the way. Things she’d noticed the cadets she used to teach do or say. Nothing personal but enough to ease the boulder on Allison’s shoulders a tiny fraction.

Especially since Raelle almost never talked about her time at Fort Salem.

Even after the wars were over.

Allison had ended up wrapped in Henley’s arms so many times she’d lost count. Held her hand. Shared light kisses and deep smiles. 

It was...confusing. It was different. Strange. Weird.

This wasn’t how families were. No other family she knew was like this. 

Parents flirting and still together for years.

Henley so openly proclaiming her love. Comfortable with her parents. With wanting things with Allison. 

The Ramshorn-Collars were...different.

They always had been. But, being away from them for so long, being back amongst her fellow High Atlantics, caused her to forget.

Not clearly remember the...warmth...around the family.

Allison was also introduced to what turned out to be a big yearly event for the Ramshorn-Collars.

“You didn’t warn me.” Allison accused.

Henley’s eyes danced, “You never asked.”

_“Alright, you’re with me, Green Eyes.” Raelle waved at Allison, drawing her away from where she had been standing next to a bouncing Henley._

_The foursome were bundled up, hats on and coats buttoned. Converged in the backyard, a few steps from the neatly tended mushroom garden, the huddle broke up, Scylla and Henley marching over to one end of the yard while Raelle hung around the backdoor leading into the heated and inviting house._

_Allison shot her girlfriend a look before ambling over to the older witch._

_She didn’t really understand what was happening._

_It had snowed the night before. It was still snowing. Henley had woken up in her arms and excitedly hopped around when she spotted the winter white fluff outside the window._

_Allison didn’t fully understand what snow meant to the younger witch until she was in the kitchen being handed a steaming cup of caffeine, Scylla sporting an amused and calculating smirk and Raelle with slightly slumped shoulders and rolling eyes._

_She did not wake up expecting to be trudging outside soon after breakfast._

_She expected to stay inside. Coax Henley back to her room, away from her parents. Close the door and not leave for hours._

_If she was honest, she wanted to remind herself what it was like to hear Henley’s voice in person. Not through a telephone surrounded by other soldiers with spying ears and gossiping mouths. She wanted to feel the warmth that the aura of the girl’s presence infused in her. Different from the anxious undercurrent of steely eyes and sharp smirks her fellow cadets sported. Words quick and brutal. Questioning why Allison turned down the hot dark haired knower bunked in Circe barracks. Why did she keep calling and talking to some girl back home? She didn’t want to quit, did she? Did her mom know what she was doing? Why not just have sex with someone real quick? Get a boost before training? Was that why she messed up that windstrike in training earlier? Not strong enough? Rumor was she wasn’t even dating someone who mattered._

_No._

_No, she did not expect to be outside in the falling snow._

_She certainly did not expect to be paired up with her girlfriend’s mama in what was looking to be a snowball fight._

_“Ok, here’s the plan.” Raelle rubbed her gloved hands together, “Stay low. Dodge fast. Don’t get hit.”_

_“That’s it, ma’am?” Allison blinked incredulously, the last part slipping out after being around officers and soldiers for so long._

_Hadn’t Raelle Ramshorn-Collar served for years in the military?_

_Was friends with the Bellweathers?_

_Had her photo hanging in Heritage Hall?_

_This was the best strategy she could devise?_

_Allison had never participated in a snowball fight before. Her mother saw it as beneath them to frolic in the dirty and wet slush. Even so...this was it?_

_“What did I tell you when we first met? I’m retired. No need for ma’am or Captain.”_

_“That’s it, Mrs. Ramshorn-Collar?” She might not call the other woman by her rank, but it had been drilled into her since she was old enough to talk to never address her superior by their first name. Raelle Ramshorn-Collar had been a captain. She was to be addressed as such._

_It had taken a bit of compromise on both parts. Raelle didn’t want formality and Allison only knew that._

_At least she stopped calling her captain when she saw the way both Raelle and Scylla reacted to the few times she’d used the title._

_Raelle shrugged, “That’s my wife and kid. They’ve already figured out anything I would do, have thirteen countermeasures, and are halfway to sipping tea and making me wish I’d never left the Cession.” Clapping a hand on the teenager’s shoulder, Raelle gave her a resigned sigh, “Better watch out for your face. Hen is deadly when it comes to headshots, and I think she actually likes how you look.”_

_“You're serious.” The fixer wasn’t joking._

_Raelle nodded sagely, “Launched a rocket at me last year. I had to tap out and drink a few hot toddies before I could even feel my face. Homemade recipe. I’ll make one for you later.”_

_“She tapped out because she remembered Lucy had sent her home with a few cookies and thought she could sneak some before anyone else noticed.” Scylla called out from her mini huddle with Henley._

_Raelle rolled her eyes and turned toward her wife, “I didn’t sneak any cookies!”_

_“Because you got caught by mom!” Henley shouted with a giggle._

_“I was getting a drink!”_

_“Your hand was on the cookie plate, Raelle.” Scylla countered._

_“I was moving it out of the way!”_

_“By taking the cookies off of it and leaving it behind?”_

_“I didn’t want them to fall.”_

_“So you tried to eat them?”_

_“Maybe if our daughter believed in Santa Claus...!”_

_“Edwin already claimed Santa duties.”_

_“You have no reason to be sassy with me this morning.”_

_“Whose fault is that?”_

_“The kids! Hen, stop trying to sneak around! We know what you’re doing! Where are you even going? It’s freezing out here.” Raelle glanced at Allison, “Good job missing the squeaky step, though.” Back to Henley, “If you are going to try to sneak out of the house, use the window!”_

_“Do not use the window, Henley.” Scylla sighed. “You’ll hurt yourself.” Her eyes flashed with dark humor, “We don’t want you breaking windows for a pretty girl like your mama, either. Or have you try to break into the house, again.”_

_“Why haven’t you fixed the step?” Allison piped up as Raelle glared at Scylla._

_The thing squeaked ever since she met Henley._

_“She’s been about to fix it since I was born.” Henley answered her girlfriend._

_“It’s on the list!” Raelle waved her hand, “Unless you’re ready to start this thing, let me talk to my unit.”_

_“Your unit?” Scylla’s eyebrow rose._

_“We rise and fall together.” Raelle turned back to Allison, “Ok. Good chance Scylla will distract me at some point. She doesn’t play fair. Save yourself when that happens. I’ve already accepted my fate.” Another shrug, “Married life.” She eyed her for a moment, “And, don’t try to hide. Your shiny mark will give you up.” She smirked, “How’d it get so shiny, by the way? Watching a lot more movies?”_

_Allison blinked at her._

_Raelle didn’t falter._

_Allison’s mouth flickered, “Henley is a big fan of romances.”_

_“Did she get a television in her room I don’t know about?”_

_“Who says it was always in her room?”_

_Raelle’s eyebrows rose._

_After another beat Allison found herself admitting almost sheepishly, gently, eyes ducking away, “I missed her.”_

_She had._

_She tried to act like she didn’t. That it didn’t bother her being away from the other girl. Not being able to see her. Feel her presence beside her. Turn her head and catch a glimpse of dark blue eyes after a grueling day of training or when Treefine and the others began to poke and prod at her lack of late nights out with anyone._

_How she didn’t want to participate in Beltane._

_Any sign of weakness. A wrong seed. A misstep with the scourge. Anything._

_She still missed her. Couldn’t stop._

_Raelle took this in with a small nod. Glancing back over at the other two who were plotting with snow in hand, she leaned in to Allison, “You’re an ok kid, Allison. The fact you’re ready to get your ass kicked in the freezing cold by two necros who will not bring you back to life tells me that.” She settled her gaze on the tall girl, “Henley was really happy when you agreed to stay with us for the holidays. I’m sure your mom wanted you wherever it is you winter. Doing all that fancy stuff Bells keeps trying to drag us to every year. Either way, if you want to stick around, you can. Nothing wrong with that. We told you that you can stay as long as you want and we meant it. Fort Salem can be a bit much.”_

_Allison felt something tickle the back of her throat. She cleared it, pushing down whatever feeling was bubbling in her belly._

_“Listen. I’ve already got plans to spike the hot chocolate Henley will want when we’re done getting our asses kicked because I am already way too sober for this, and I’m willing to share if you don’t tell Scylla. Get out of this without a concussion, and we’ll be good.” She caught Allison’s eyes, “And, hey. I know we already told you this, but Scylla and I are really happy you came by. You’re always welcome here. Always told her a second kid would distract Henley enough for us to actually sleep in.” Holding her gaze, “What is between you and Henley is between you and Henley. Scylla and I aren’t getting into that. Just...treat my kid right. And, if she doesn’t treat you right, you can tell us.” A shake of her head, “And, Goddess, do not make me walk in something I do not need to walk in on. Your and Henley’s marks are already blinding me.Scylla will start up about glasses again.”_

_Allison’s lashes lowered a bit as she processed what Raelle was saying, and her throat closed painfully. She peeked over at Henley, the young witch efficiently packing a snowball together and chatting with her mom. Henley, feeling eyes on her, peered over, and her face lit up with a soft delighted smile that had the High Atlantic’s chest cracking with a sudden surge of warmth and want so strong it nearly choked her. “What are you spiking the hot chocolate with?”_

_Raelle’s eyes danced, “You like moonshine?”_

_Allison chuckled, “Mrs. Ramshorn-Collar doesn’t know you’re spiking drinks?”_

_Raelle exhaled loudly._

_“Are you two ready, yet?” Henley called over, snowball perfectly formed in her palm._

_“Watch yourself, Hen. I’ve got a blaster!” Raelle pointed at her. She lowered her voice so only Allison could hear, “How good are you at making snowballs?”_

_“I’ve never made them.”_

_“Shit.”_

_“If you can distract them long enough, I can take some they’ve already made.”_

_“You want me to draw their fire while you sneak over and steal the snowballs they’ve already made?” Raelle’s pointed glance clearly questioned how the tallest witch who looked nothing like the other three would successfully go undetected...at all...anywhere._

_“Do you have a better plan?”_

_“My wife always said I made hot garbage plans.” Raelle huffed. “Fine. I’ll go left. Once I’m down, you better make my sacrifice count.”_

_“I promise to defeat them in your honor.”_

_Raelle shook her head, “Kids. Why couldn’t we build a snowman or get drunk on cider?”_

_“Thought you said you made hot toddies and spiked the hot chocolate?”_

_“Those too. Diversify your alcohol. We’re gonna need it. My mother might show up.” She clapped her hands, “Ok, on three. One. Two.”_

_A snowball flew through the air, smacking Raelle straight in the face and sending her stumbling back._

_Allison turned her head just in time to feel a ball of snow crash into her chest._

_The battle was on._

Allison took a breath and flexed her hands. For some reason, there, in the peaceful softness of the approaching evening and the sound of the ocean beckoning with its salty sweet unending vastness of sparkling blue that matched the eyes tenderly locked on her face. In the cozy comfort of the home that felt lived in, wanted, full of familiar warmth, of joy, laughter and love. That echoed with cheerful banter and achingly heartfelt devotion. Where she was welcomed without a word. Without any demands or expectations. Without question. There, with Henley, with a lover’s touch more than the ghost of a remembrance on her skin. With the faint sounds of Scylla and Raelle shuffling in the other room. There, in the Ramshorn-Collar home, Allison found the words tumbling out. Words she would have otherwise kept locked inside. Words she would shake off or let disappear behind brash confidence and bravado. Behind High Atlantic blaster swagger. Words she would never give voice to when she was younger. Words that burned in her soul. That were heavy on her tongue. Hung from her lips, clinging lest they fall.

Words she somehow knew Henley understood.

“I think I knew then. Not...not consciously, but...I knew it wasn’t going to get better than that.” Allison confessed. “I think...I was shown what I could have. But...I didn’t know it.” Her mouth twisted into a bittersweet phantom of a smile. “I didn’t know how to have it. Keep it.”

Neither of them had.

_Henley hooked her hands around the back of Allison’s neck and tugged her down into a gentle kiss, “I’m going to miss you”_

_Allison kissed her back, “I’ll miss you, too.”_

_Henley pressed their foreheads together, eyes catching, “Be safe. I know you’re powerful. Smart. But, I worry sometimes.”_

_Allison could only gulp quietly and give a little nod._

_Henley stared into her eyes for a few heartbeats before speaking again, “I love you.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy all! Thanks for sticking around until the end.
> 
> Would love to hear your thoughts. Good? Bad? Please stop writing about these characters and focus exclusively on Raelle and Scylla? Just stop writing you are hurting my eyeballs?
> 
> Let me know!
> 
> One holiday cookie for reading. Two cookies for reading and kudos. Roast beast and latkes for reading and commenting.


	19. Black and Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wetting her lips, the blonde reached blood singed fingers into the pouch strapped to her thigh. The tips trembled as they touched the creased edge of the letter.
> 
> A letter.
> 
> It had arrived that morning. Mail was slow out there but it still worked. A batch came in, and Raelle’s name had been called, the tiny white envelope waved in the air as Raelle bounded over to snatch it quickly. She could only tuck it away next to her tin of salva and tattered notepad before being drawn into action, a unit brought in needing medical attention immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place before Ending of a Beginning. (Yep, we are traveling way far back in the timeline.)

The sky was a hazy yellowish tinged red. Clouds morphed into barricades between the earth and sky, and the wind rose and fell like clenched fists anxiously awaiting the moment they would be let loose and collide with whoever was unlucky enough to be in their path. Rock and sand swirled through the air, choking out the sunlight and dripping into lungs like gritty claws to swipe and snarl until the person coughed enough to spit out blood and bile. The untamable cry of the skies was only offset by the unsettling eerie silence of the quiet when the air grew still and every noise was louder than the next. 

The hollowed out building was little more than a small alcove of crumbling concrete and crippled cracked rock. Tiny pebbles and chips of debris littered the ground and mixed with the wilted brown grass and dusty dirt. The building had once been a home. A house where a family lived. Kids played. Parents cooked and cleaned and paid their bills. A house where there were breakfasts, lunches, and dinners. Storytimes and playdates. Game nights and quiet contemplation. Where futures were planned for and pasts were spoken about with laughter and grins.

The family was long gone. Evacuated when the battle drew near enough to send winds as strong as hurricanes crashing into neighboring trees and snapping power lines like twigs. Now, it was just an empty shell, torn apart from battling Work, the world now at war and witches marching across continents as they fought to survive, to thrive, to determine what their lives were going to be. Who would lead and who would follow. What freedom meant.

To simply be.

Huddled against the burnt wall scarred from flames and chaos, Raelle leaned her back against the chalky stone, mindless of the powdery grime painting her already soot stained uniform. Her face was ruddy from long days in the sun and her eyes were rimmed red from countless nights spent awake, tending to the wounded in the makeshift infirmary and driving out on missions, one of the only fixers left in the area. 

One of the only fixers still alive.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept more than an hour or two at a time. Curled up in a corner hidden by her company’s packs and using her jacket as a pillow. So exhausted even the nightmares couldn’t wake her. The sounds of explosions, the roar of tornadoes, and the shifting earth, craters appearing at their feet, were a gruesome lullaby that became no more than background noise to the shouts for a medic and the pounding heartbeat under her hands as she willed an injured soldier, young and afraid, to trust her and let her heal her. 

Wetting her lips, the blonde reached blood singed fingers into the pouch strapped to her thigh. The tips trembled as they touched the creased edge of the letter.

A letter.

It had arrived that morning. Mail was slow out there but it still worked. A batch came in, and Raelle’s name had been called, the tiny white envelope waved in the air as Raelle bounded over to snatch it quickly. She could only tuck it away next to her tin of salva and tattered notepad before being drawn into action, a unit brought in needing medical attention immediately.

Hours passed. The sun curved through the sky till it gently hovered over the horizon, the moon ready to take its place. Many sat down for dinner and to catch their breath, trade stories and conversation. She’d spotted Abigail breaking a bite off a roll of bread as she marched away from the constant chaos. The taller girl caught her eye when Raelle staggered past. Raelle could only shake her head and lethargically gesture to where the folded note was hidden, voice gone and throat sore, mind too focused on needing to get somewhere quiet...alone...to explain why she was skipping out on another meal. Though the blaster might have wanted to say something, her friend understood. Knew what occurred that morning. Abigail gave her a quick nod and let her go.

And Raelle went.

Hiked till the noise of the army was only a distant murmur. Hiked to the tiny home that was now a patch of rock. Rubble. Ghosts and demons. Faint memories and even fainter remembrances. Settled down, her knees giving out as she dropped to the tiny patch of earth sprouting up from the wreckage. She bent her sore knee and let her arm drape wearily across it. Her throat was parched, and a small series of cuts near her eyebrow ached with a smattering of bluish purple spreading out to color her temple and around her eye as she blinked.

Raelle closed her eyes and inhaled deeply when her calloused fingers shakily eased out the envelope. 

Taking one more breath, letting the whoosh of the air filling her lungs and slowly spilling out calm her heart and draw her mind into an easy peaceful place, a place where it was warm and cozy and she could feel phantom arms wrapped around her chest, a chin on her shoulder, a nose nestled in the crook of her neck with smiling lips brushing her skin, the fixer tore open the envelope and opened her eyes to drag out the letter.

It was a simple piece of paper. Notebook paper. Nothing fancy. The ink wrote crisp clear letters but it splotched a bit from where sweat and rain had soaked through the envelope. This one was short. Hastily written. The writer most likely had very little time. Was being sent away on another secret mission or...the blonde refused to think about other scenarios that would cause the writer to need to leave...to run...to hide.

She mentally pushed those thoughts away with a firm shake of her head and focused on the words. On the neat scrawl, even in haste, so much unlike her own. A scrawl she knew by heart. Memorized. Cherished. Dreamt about.

Raelle swallowed thickly.

She could hear Scylla’s voice as her eyes scanned each syllable. Each consonant and vowel. 

_ Raelle, _

_ I love you.  _

She brought the heel of her hand to her suddenly blurry eyes and sniffed. She rubbed harshly at the growing wetness clinging to her lashes and swiped roughly at her nose.

She couldn’t get emotional. Not now. 

She couldn’t cry.

Even if her chest felt shattered by three small simple words. Her heart split open and her stomach churned like she was going to weep or be sick or tumble over and curl up into a ball, hoping if she closed her eyes, when she opened them, she’d be home. 

Even if her feet wanted to run and never stop moving. Run through endless fields like back in the Cession, going and going until she stumbled upon the house she grew up in, her pop in his chair with the television tuned to some sports game and half asleep as he waited up for her to make it home. Run until she was on the tarmac at Fort Salem, mind already trying to figure out how to find Scylla and hug her. Run until she was in their bed, quilt blanketing their bodies and hands clasped together as she let herself drown in the feel of her lover beside her.

Even if, late at night, during the darkest moments when everything and everyone around her was moving but she was standing still, the small speck of a nanosecond before her training and need to help kicked in, before the restlessness in her hands and the anxiousness in her boots had her hurtling forward, she wondered if this would ever truly end. Or, if this was what her life was until she no longer had a life.

Even if sometimes she wondered if this was the hell the preacher back home shouted about. That she died in that desert in China. Never was found. Never brought home. Never saw Scylla again.

She was dead, and this was her afterlife. Her penance. Her eternity. 

_ I am ok.  _

A sob bubbled up in her throat, and Raelle ground her teeth together to hold it in. 

Scylla was ok.

She was safe.

Healthy.

Alive.

Raelle didn’t know everything Scylla was doing. Same as Scylla didn’t know where she was or what was happening around her. To her. They couldn’t say much in letters. Could barely get a few words in about surviving. About what they did in the few moments of free time they had.

Trickles of time that let them think of the other. 

To worry.

Wonder.

Dream and fear. Hope and dread.

Wish to whatever goddess was listening that the person they loved was still alive. Hadn’t been hurt or killed. Captured. Lost.

_ I hope you are doing ok. I miss you more than anything. I need you to stay safe. Trust Abigail no matter how high and mighty she gets. Let her help you. Tally and Glory, too, when they are sent back. I need you to come home. Don’t try to be a hero. Don’t give more than you can. Don’t be stupid and try to sacrafice yourself, because there are so many of us who love you and want you with us. I had to go and find you once. Please, don’t make me do it again. _

Raelle lifted her quivering hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. She took a steadying breath and let her hand fall away as she continued reading.

_ I am working with Byron and Izadora. They both say hello. Byron is writing you a letter, too. Something about Shakespeare that will make you grumpier than when you’re hungover. I’m meeting Anacostia later today, and I can get her to pass this letter on to the next supply transport heading your way, so you’ll probably get my letter before his.  _

_ I saw Edwin a few weeks ago. He misses you. He is sending you a care package, so keep an eye out for it. He talked about sending you some more notepads and maybe some candies or treats. He mentioned tossing in a bottle of moonshine. Might be against the rules, but Collars don’t get drunk, right? He also gave me a bottle your neighbor Nahuel made. You need to come home soon because I cannot drink this on my own, and I am not letting Byron near it. When you get your bottle, make sure there are no windows around for you to break or fields of grass to turn into rings.I don’t need a box of broken glass and grass rings sent to me. Would rather have you. _

_ I miss you so much, Rae. You need to stay safe and come home so we can go away together. We still need to go to the beach. Watch the boats. Nap in the sun. Build silly sandcastles. We made promises, and I’m holding you to yours. Dancing in the moonlight, swimming in the ocean, and getting a place of our own. _

Raelle clenched her teeth hard enough to crack her jaw as her throat bobbed.

_ I worry about you. You should have been home months ago. We both should have. I know you’re tired. I know it’s hard. When I miss you so much it hurts, I think about all those things you told me that we’d do together. I hope you think about them, too. You made me believe we have a future together. To want that future. We are going to have that future. You keep telling me that. Let’s have that future.  _

_ Take care of yourself. Rest when you can. Do not give more than you are able to. I’ll do the same. We promised to come home to each other. I’ll keep my end. You keep yours. _

_ I love you. Always. No matter what. _

_ Stay safe. _

_ Yours, _

_ Scylla _

Sucking in a quivering breath, lips shaking and tears stinging the corners of her bleary eyes, Raelle ducked her head beside her bent knee. She bit her lip, teeth sinking into the tender flesh, and willed herself not to cry. 

To not break down.

The paper crunched in her hand as she gripped it tightly between her fingers. Her chest heaved, and she fought to keep control over her emotions. 

Battled the fire in her chest that threatened to consume her mind. The flood of sobs and gut wrenching agony that rushed to fill her veins and shred her soul. 

She wanted to go home.

She wanted to be with Scylla.

She wanted to feel her arms around her. Feel her heartbeat beneath her palm. Kiss her lips and nuzzle her neck. See her smile. Stare into her eyes, get lost in the dark blue deeper and more entrancing than the entire sea. Wanted to lay her head on her girlfriend’s chest and let her hold her until she fell asleep. Wanted to wake up to find Scylla lying next to her, safe and sound and as beautiful as the first day they met. 

A sharp slice across her palm snapped through Raelle’s thoughts, and she peeked down, unfurling her fist.

A humble  _ S  _ cut into her skin.

Raelle stared at it.

Scylla.

Her face flickered and a small whimper clawed at the back of her tongue. She tilted her head back against the wall, knocking it against the stone once, twice, three times. 

Letter firm in her fist, she pressed it against her chest, against her heart, the scar that crossed it covered by her uniform. 

A scar she always kept hidden. A reminder of a different battle. A different time. Of loss. Of fear. Of death.

A scar that brought Scylla back to her. A heart that beat only for the brunette.

She missed her.

So much.

The crunch and crackle of boots walking a steady pace towards her had Raelle wiping furiously at her face.

The boots stopped a couple feet away.

Raelle sniffed and rubbed the end of her sleeve against her eyes, not caring that the rough fabric scratched at her skin and the bruises.

“Here.” 

Raelle pressed her lips together, the pale chapped pink forming a thin pale line, and glanced over.

Abigail held out an energy bar, face neutral but eyes encouraging and slightly concerned, “Eat, shitbird. I don’t need you passing out on me.”

“That only happened once.” Raelle grumbled but slowly reached out and took the food.

“Yeah, and I had to carry your ass all the way back to camp. Thought you were dead for a second.” Abigail quirked an eyebrow, but the flash in her gaze let Raelle know how worried the blaster truly had been.

She could still feel the cold jerk of the jolting shake that woke her up, Abigail hovering over her and staring down with a grimness at the edges of her mouth and a frozen terror in her brown eyes.

The blonde had a feeling Scylla asked the High Atlantic to watch out for her, and she was grateful the Bellweather didn’t mention to the necro how Raelle collapsed at the tail-end of a mission because she was too busy to eat.

Because fixers were decimated in the war with the Camarilla and there had been no time to recover before the entire world was sunk into a fight. 

Raelle somehow knew her girlfriend was trusting Abigail with her. Just like Raelle’d written to Byron asking him to look out for Scylla when they worked together, or how she asked Tally and Glory to check in when they were sent back stateside. 

Whatever Scylla was doing, Raelle knew it was dangerous. Something that most likely had her in situations where she was with the enemy. Scylla had proven to be an adept spy. A necro with a flair for working her way into places she shouldn’t belong and able to gather information and be near people she was fighting against. It left her dangling on the precipice of exposure. One wrong move, and she was surrounded by danger with no one to protect her.

Just like she had done at Fort Salem what felt like a lifetime ago. What had been a lifetime ago for Raelle.

Scylla secretly put her entire life in danger every day. No record. No recognition. No acknowledgment by the military she was no longer a part of.

She sacrificed every day.

Did it so they could maybe one day be together.

Be free.

Be them.

Raelle tore open the wrapper, her mind and body suddenly starving for sleep and sustenance, her eyelids heavy and her stomach grumbling, “You know me and death, Bells.”

“I do not need to hear about whatever you and necro get up to in bed.”

Raelle huffed out a fatigued laugh as Abigail put her hands on her hips, “My girl’s wild, Bells. Just using me for sex.”

“Wish I could use someone for sex.”

“Heard Augustin and Clive might get sent over.”

“Thank the goddess. At least someone who can keep up for more than two minutes.”

There were almost no boys deployed near them, and the handful that were hadn’t exactly met a Bellweather’s standards.

Raelle bit into the bar, “Plenty of other options.”

“Oh, I know.” Abigail smirked, “While I’m flattered, I don’t want your girlfriend coming after me for seducing you.”

Raelle chewed for a moment, freezing mid-swallow as the words registered in her head. Rolling her eyes, she glared up at the witch, “Who says you’d be seducing me, Bells? Not my type.”

“Hot and not in a macabre sort of way?” Abigail’s smirk deepend, “I heard all it takes is one kiss to get you into bed.”

“Who told you that?”

“A little birdie.”

Raelle’s eyes narrowed, “A bird? How the fuck would Gerit know?”

Abigail’s laugh echoed all the way back to camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Good? Bad? Ugly? Let me know!


	20. Black and Tan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scylla ducked into the shadows, the greyish lines of light and dark hiding her face and the deep blue of her eyes as she quickly unfolded the crumbled creased slip of paper Anacostia had subtly pressed into her hand with an unreadable expression that only Scylla would understand and a slight tip of her head toward a spot where only particles of dust danced in the silence broken intermittently by the tapping of the rain against the bleak smudged glass of the blinds covered window.
> 
> She unconsciously bit her lip as her hands quivered. The paper was slick, and one of the edges was stained with a few tiny rips along the bottom and a random wild line of graphite streaked near the end of the writing. Like the writer’s hand had been bumped or jerked as they finished their sentence. She turned her shoulder toward the dimness while leaning the paper closer to the small glow of the dim light bulb. The hushed sounds of people talking and preparing were drowned out by the pounding of her heart and the roar in her ears that only quieted when she laid eyes on the scratchy scribbles that made up her girlfriend’s penmanship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are still before Ending of a Beginning.

Raelle sat tiredly in the back of the truck, her body swaying roughly from side to side as the driver sped over the bumpy terrain with a sort of recklessness that had become normal as the weeks and months ticked by.

The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, and a cool morning mist hovered gently along the pale pink sky and dipped down to the brown and black hued land that once boasted vibrant greens and eye-catching rainbows of color spread wherever the light touched. She barely noticed the crispness of the air, water droplets hanging heavily in the quiet, and ignored the jerk of the vehicle as she bent over the scraggly notepad tucked awkwardly in her lap. The pencil shook in her hand, and she had to pause to breathe in deeply and steady her fingers as much as she could, stretching them out and giving them a firm hard shake.

Her hands hadn’t been steady in a long time.

Not since she’d been deployed at the start of this war. Maybe even before that.

Maybe they never really had been.

A constant shake dragged her palms across mud stained trousers and caused her touch to never linger longer than it needed to for fear of the tremble becoming worse.

For fear of her mind remembering. 

For fear that the shivering might not go away.

That she’d always have a tremor that caused the liquid in her flask to swirl and the buttons of her uniform to take longer than normal to slip through the tiny holes and fasten tight.

That she’d be unable to touch Scylla, feel her, love her.

Her pop would see how she couldn’t properly hold anything.

That she’d mess up fixing someone because her hands refused to be steady.

That she’d mess up fixing one of her friends, her family.

Sucking in another lungful of wet wispy air, she pressed the tip of the pencil to the paper, watching blearily as the graphite smudged across the yellowed paper with a splotch near one corner from when she had hastily shoved a rain and blood soaked hand inside her pack to pull out a spare glove she’d used to jam up a wound that was about to bleed out before she could fully link with the dying soldier. 

Her eyes danced across the page as she wrote, the hum of the engine and light chatter of her unit lulling her into a space where it was only her and the words, a small moment of peace and tranquility where she could forget that she was on her way to another battle, another fight, another place where there would be death and destruction and unending chaos and strife.

A place where all she could do was run from one injured witch to the next, doing her best to dodge brutal windstrikes and crushing seeds that drove anyone caught in its grasp to the ground.

Into the ground.

Six feet deep and no sense of ever truly going home.

Not in a way that didn’t involve a neatly folded flag and a grim stomping of feet on well manicured lawns near one corner of Fort Salem.

Swiping the back of her hand across her nose, she swallowed harshly to try to wet her sore and dried up throat, the pencil scraping against the paper.

_Scylla,_

_I love you._

_I miss you so much. I am ok. We are all ok. There’s not much happening I can write about, but Abigail is still ordering me around like I know you told her to, which she already did anyway. Tell everyone back home hello for me, if you get a chance. I sent my pop a letter a week ago, but I’m not sure it got through. Mail is a bit rough around here._

_Don’t worry about me. I know you do, but I’m ok. The fighting isn’t that bad. I think it’s getting better. Rumor is that it’s almost over. You probably know better about that than me, but I think I’ll be home soon. The food is still terrible, and my idea about brewing something didn’t work out too well, but I’m still kicking Tally’s ass at cards - I love her but she has no poker face - and then Glory wins it all anyways, but, I guess I’m trying to say that we’re fine. I’m ok. I’d be better if I was home with you. In our bed. Can’t remember the last time I got to sleep in a real bed. Not sure how much sleeping we’ll be doing when I get back, though. My girlfriend is really sexy. Can barely keep up with her. Prettiest girl around, too._

_I need to go soon. It’s almost time to eat, and Bellweather likes us all eating together. Tally too. Unit unity and all._

_Stay safe. I know you’re doing something dangerous. I don’t know what, but I need you to stay safe. Anacostia can be a lot, but she’s good. I know you’re probably doing stuff with her. Make sure you stick with her no matter what._

~~_I wrote my mama_~~ _If Byron is there, tell him I said to stop bothering you. Have Izadora use him in her demonstrations for the new cadets if he keeps it up._

_I can’t wait to see you again. We’re going to the ocean first thing. Catch a bus the second I get off the plane. I’ll sneak us some salva if I have to. I know some people._

_You’re the best thing that ever happened to me._

_I’ll see you soon._

_Raelle_

Rereading what she’d written, Raelle’s body viciously snapped back, her spine and neck cracking painfully as the truck suddenly swerved to the right. She fumbled with the notepad, the pencil dropping to the floor and rolling away as her other hand blindly flung out to grasp onto something, anything. 

The truck tipped to the side, and shouts cried out as the rest of the soldiers dove to hang on.

For half a heartbeat, it was as if the truck was suspended in time, tilted on two wheels and slowly plummeting through space.

Time slammed back into place with a violent bang, and the truck righted itself, bouncing from side to side as it careened forward, not slowing down or stopping.

An explosion sounded in the distance. Loud. Teeth rattling. Ominous.

The ghastly hauntingly horrendous roar of the earth shifting, moving, land smashing together and stretching apart, echoed like the nightmare it was.

Raelle glanced up to see Abigail and Tally next to each other, their widened yet hardened eyes peering over at her.

Time was up.

They’d arrived.

* * *

Scylla ducked into the shadows, the greyish lines of light and dark hiding her face and the deep blue of her eyes as she quickly unfolded the crumbled creased slip of paper Anacostia had subtly pressed into her hand with an unreadable expression that only Scylla would understand and a slight tip of her head toward a spot where only particles of dust danced in the silence broken intermittently by the tapping of the rain against the bleak smudged glass of the blinds covered window.

She unconsciously bit her lip as her hands quivered. The paper was slick, and one of the edges was stained with a few tiny rips along the bottom and a random wild line of graphite streaked near the end of the writing. Like the writer’s hand had been bumped or jerked as they finished their sentence. She turned her shoulder toward the dimness while leaning the paper closer to the small glow of the dim light bulb. The hushed sounds of people talking and preparing were drowned out by the pounding of her heart and the roar in her ears that only quieted when she laid eyes on the scratchy scribbles that made up her girlfriend’s penmanship.

She eagerly drank in the few words feebly sprawled across the page.

A tension she held in her shoulders and which achingly weighed in her chest like boulders only faded when she touched her finger and traced the lines pressed into the paper.

_I miss you so much. I am ok._

Her mouth trembled, and she pressed her lips together to hold back the flicker of emotion cracking across her face and dancing along the curve of her jaw and the furrow of her brow. Her throat bobbed with a gulp she refused to let turn into tears.

She couldn’t cry.

Wouldn’t.

Not now.

Not until Raelle was back in her arms. Safe and sound. 

Not until she brought her home one last time.

She lifted her finger from the page and pushed the tip into the end of her eyebrow, sliding up to touch the spot just above it. She took a breath and fought to center herself. Her head shook slowly as her chin quaked.

She knew Raelle was lying.

Yet, seeing the words in front of her, hearing Raelle’s voice in her head, seeing her charming grin when she closed her eyes and feeling her phantom arms around her when she paused to let herself imagine for just a moment that the other witch was there with her, it was true. Her heart warmed for the briefest of seconds. For a single beat, she allowed herself to believe.

Then, she opened her eyes, and let the truth of their lives appear before her.

Appear in the way her clothes hung heavily over her small frame and the purplish bags draped beneath her eyes. The bruise still healing at the hinge of her jaw and the knife stowed at her ankle, the handle able to be perfectly cradled in her hand.The way she kept her eyes and ears alert, mind always working, thinking...not trusting.

Not trusting her surroundings. 

Not trusting the people around her. Civilians. Witches.

She placed her trust in very few.

Understood the cost of lowering her guard. 

What she could lose.

She’d lost her family.

She’d thought she’d lost her lover.

Scylla understood what it was like to wake up not believing she would ever see the person she loved again. 

How, if she failed, she didn’t just put herself in danger.

She risked not helping bring Raelle back home. 

She sent a silent prayer to the goddess that Raelle stayed safe. Protected. That Abigail kept her word and stayed by her side, just like she had since their first deployment together, way back before the first war even truly started. Back when they were younger...unaware of the horrors that were to come.

Goddess, she missed Raelle.

Her mind wanted to think back to a different time.

Back to when they were both at Fort Salem. Falling in love and not haunted by memories of painful chained arguments in the basement of the necro building or funerals with empty caskets or never knowing if they were in love with someone who was dead...gone forever. 

Wanted to think about drunken midnight declarations shouted at her window, moonlit dances, and comforting a grumpy hungover blonde fixer as Raelle’s unit teased them lightly.

She didn’t, though.

She didn’t allow herself to remember. Imagine. Get lost in thoughts and dreams and hopes.

Not now.

Maybe, when Raelle was back, when they both were done with all of this.

When they were spread out on the sandy shore of the nearest beach, sun beaming down on their tanned bodies as they shared heartfelt glances and tender kisses. Nowhere near fighting or conscription or loss.

Then, she could think about all of that. Think about the past. The future. A future she never knew she wanted, was even possible, until she introduced herself to Raelle by those practice fields that very first day. When Raelle offered to walk her back with a heart melting grin. 

She could replay every single moment she shared with Raelle. Every kiss. Every touch. Every heartfelt murmur of devotion.

Right now?

Right now, she had to focus.

Focus on the mission.

Not worrying if Raelle was ok. Healthy. Alive. Breathing.

Not on if the army finally took the one last thing Scylla truly loved. Needed. Yearned for. Would die for.

Not on if they'd chosen the right path. If staying and fighting for some rumored promise of freedom was worth all this. Was more than a promise meant to never be fulfilled by those in power.

Not on if Raelle's loyalty would cost them both everything. Her loyalty to her friends. Her unit. Scylla.

Not on how she had to wonder who was truly friend or foe. If the soldier or civilian next to her would kill her. 

Not on the army and its chains in the form of medals and whips in the form of windstrikes would be her and Raelle's downfall. 

No, she didn't worry about that. 

Only on what she could control. What she was doing.

She carefully folded the letter and eased it into the inside pocket of her jacket.

She had a mission to complete.

She allowed herself one last thought of smiling laughing light blue eyes and whispered declarations followed by the lightest of nips and a loving kiss.

Her hand snuck into the small pocket of her jacket right above her heart. Nimble tips pulled out the sleek worn metal lighter. Her hand fell back to her side, and she fiddled with the lid, snapping it back and forth, her eyes dropping down to watch the tiny movement.

It was almost hypnotic. Luring her back to the present. To the moment. To what she would need to do.

The door opened and Anacostia’s face, blank except for the sympathetic question hinted at in her gaze, appeared, bathed in a yellowish beam of light. Scylla straightened her posture and moved toward her, “Let’s go.”

Anacostia eyed her for a moment, eyes not leaving the younger woman’s face. As the seconds ticked by, she spoke lowly but clearly, “Get in and get out. We’ll be ready for you when you leave. You remember the coordinates?”

“Have I ever forgotten where my welcoming party is?”

Anacostia’s mouth flinched with the taste of a smirk as her eyes threatened to roll, “If you take longer than 48 hours, I’m sending someone in.”

“Misery does love company. Could have a real party, though I’ll probably be dead.” she smirked to hide the way her mouth flinched.

There was a high chance she would die.

“48 hours.” Anacostia repeated sternly. “Don’t make me tell Collar you disappeared on us.”

“You’re so good at delivering news of our deaths, though.” The second the words left her mouth, Scylla deflated. 

A burst of pain raced through her veins and struck her heart worse than any windstrike ever could. Her jaw snapped shut at the cry brewing in her belly and crawling up her throat. 

_“Raelle is dead.”_

She could still smell the hint of dark roast floating through the coffee shop and see the happy couple crossing the street.

Could still feel the panic. The anger.

The hurt.

She always would.

Anacostia sighed, her voice turning almost tender, “Raelle is ok. You both are. Let’s keep it that way. I’d like to retire at some point, and I can’t do that if I need to keep worrying about you two getting into trouble.”

“Make sure you invite us to your retirement party. We’ll give a toast.”

“You two are not going to say a damn word. And Collar is not going anywhere near the drinks.” Anacostia twisted to the side, “Are you ready?”

“Always.” she flicked the lighter to life and drew the flame to her face. 

As her features began to change, neither mentioned the letter she kept in her pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good? Bad? Ugly? Let me know!
> 
> Wowsers, we've hit 20 of these Love Shots? Already? That many? Gosh. Which one is the best so far?


	21. Dark 'N' Fluffy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’ll be fine. You two have a good time.” Edwin ushered them to the door. “Take a walk or catch a movie after lunch. No rush.”
> 
> The couple had plans for a quick child-free date, and Edwin had plans to spoil his granddaughter until he left for home.
> 
> He didn’t get to see his granddaughter all that much, not nearly as much as he’d like to, and he knew his daughter and daughter-in-law didn’t get to be alone like they’d used to.
> 
> They could kill two birds with one stone.
> 
> But, it required that Scylla and Raelle leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are back to a time before First Drink, First Love but after Baby Buzz.

“Hey, Scyl. Have you...ouch! Damn it...witch down!”

Henley giggled from her perch behind the couch as she watched her mama flop onto the floor dramatically and clutch at her foot. Her mom barely glanced over with a quirked eyebrow at the blonde, not stopping from where she was meticulously putting the pieces of the board game away in their little spots in the box. Dropping the dice in the slot next to the cards, Scylla casually called out, “Are you ok, honey?”

Raelle groaned, “Lego.”

Scylla snorted and rolled her eyes, “Get up, Rae. You can handle stepping on a lego.”

Raelle turned her head to look at her, face incredulous, “Have you stepped on one of these?”

“No, because I look where I’m walking.”

“I looked!”

“You were looking at me.”

“Can’t help it that my wife is beautiful. Have you met my wife?” Raelle grinned, “So beautiful you’d step on a lego for her.”

“What commitment. Thank the goddess I married you.”

“Still sassy, I see.”

“Still on your back, I see.”

“Appreciatin’ the view.” She smirked lazily, “Didn’t hear you complaining last night.” 

Scylla rolled her eyes, “Get up.”

Raelle peeked toward the couch before dropping her voice, “You were telling me to go down earlier.”

“You didn’t listen to me then, either.”

“Hey…”

“Probably didn’t hear me above your snoring.”

“I don’t snore.”

“It’s all you’re going to be doing tonight if you don’t get up.”

“Thought you were using me for sex.”

“I was until we had a daughter. Now I’m using you to pick up those mugs and take them to the kitchen. Dishes, Raelle. Wash them, please.”

“So demanding.” Raelle gestured at her foot, “I’m injured.”

“You’re the fixer.”

“Just one kiss to make it better?” 

Scylla exhaled and tipped the lid back on the box, hiding away the game pieces. Turning, she slowly meandered over to the splayed out blonde, “You’re hopeless.”

“Hopelessly in love.” The edges of her lips turned up, “Still got that ring on your finger.” Raelle reached up and grasped her hand, fingertip grazing the gold band, “Still married.”

“Still haven’t picked up the mugs and washed them.” 

“In a minute.” She tugged on her hand, “Come’re.”

Rolling her eyes again, but the corners of her mouth creeping into a tender exasperated smile, Scylla lowered herself to straddle her wife. Eyes finding greyish steely blue that seemed to lighten and darken with the sun, her smile softened, and she gently placed her palm flat on Raelle’s chest right above her heart, smoothing the slightly wrinkled fabric of the blonde’s green shirt and feeling the faint echo of the steady beat thrum through her skin and join with her own. 

She always loved to feel its gentle beat.

A reminder that Raelle was there with her. 

They were together. Happy. 

She would sometimes rest her head on Raelle’s chest and let the subtle rhythm drag her into dreamland. Allow the steady thump to drive away whatever worries had woven their way into her mind that day and curled into the body she had memorized thousands of times yet would never tire of, would always discover something new when exploring with her teeth and tongue.

Raelle wet her lips and carefully raised her fingers to slip into dark silky locks. Her hands gently cradled her head, and her eyes drank in the beautiful woman on top of her like a prisoner seeing their first sunrise as a free person after a lifetime of captivity. Her body seemed to melt beneath the brunette, a familiar look flickering across her features that spoke of devotion and adoration that hadn’t diminished as the years passed. Merely changed. Grew. Strengthened. Became deeper. Ever so slowly, she lifted her shoulders, eyes dipping down to a soft pink mouth before drifting back up to hypnotizing blue. 

Scylla met her halfway. A light chaste kiss. An unhurried affectionately loving brush of lips. Heartfelt and earnestly tender.

Henley pressed a hand to her mouth to hold in another giggle and she rolled her eyes as she ducked further behind the couch.

Her parents kissed all the time.

They would be there for a while.

Which meant she needed to find something to do.

Arms crossed, she screwed up her face in thought. 

It took a few seconds, but it happened.

An idea popped in her head, and she was off.

Moments later, Raelle and Scylla heard tiny feet scrambling up the stairs. 

“Chances she breaks something?” Raelle whispered against Scylla’s lips.

“Better than you getting out of washing the dishes.” Scylla caught her bottom lip and sucked it into her mouth.

“I do like to get my hands wet.” Raelle’s eyes fluttered closed at the sensation. She tilted her head, nose nuzzling and mouth silently asking for more.

“That's terrible.”

"It's working."

“Then, don't stop.”

Scylla leaned down further. Her hand slid around to curve along the length of her wife’s jaw, and she hummed lightly as arms wrapped around her, a warm calloused palm slipping up along her spine and spreading across the wool of her sweater, gently urging her even closer. She nipped tenderly at Raelle’s lip, earning a smile that had their mouths slotting together perfectly.

Scylla’s body drifted down to nestle against Raelle’s as their lips slowly moved together in a delicate dance they both knew by heart. A well known heat tickled low in her belly and lit the inside of her chest. She felt Raelle’s hand trickle lower and smirked into the kiss, “Your dad’s on his way. Don’t start something you can't finish.”

“Can be quick.” Raelle murmured. Her fingers smoothed along the base of Scylla’s spine, teasing the hem of her shirt.

“Not that quick.” Scylla touched her forehead to her wife’s, “Henley could see.”

As if on cue, a fumbling crash sounded from upstairs.

They froze.

Held their breaths.

One tick.

Two.

No other sound came.

Raelle tilted her head back against the carpet with a muted groan, and Scylla looked wearily up toward the stairs. The brunette’s eyebrows rose with a resigned huff, “Or she could destroy the house.”

“I swear she gets more clumsy every day. Where did she even get that from?” 

Scylla’s head whipped around to stare at the blonde beneath her.

“What?” Raelle met her gaze.

“Really? No idea where she got this from?”

“No?”

“Honey,” Scylla pushed back onto her knees, “You broke how many windows and tore up the parade field…”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“I was trying to impress a pretty girl.”

“You were after a drunken booty call.” Scylla rolled her eyes as a knock sounded at the door. She ignored Raelle’s frown bordering on a pout as she climbed to her feet, “Get up. That’s probably your dad.”

“Not a booty call.” Raelle reached out to her, “He can wait. One more kiss. I’m injured. Can’t even walk.”

“I’ll tell Bellweather you got taken down by a lego.” Scylla began to walk toward the door, “Unless you want to explain to Ed why he had to wait outside.”

“He’d understand.” Raelle pushed herself to her feet and grudgingly swiped up the mugs into her hands.

Scylla shot her a look and snagged the front of her shirt as she hobbled by to pull her in for a quick kiss, “Watch out for legos.”

“Should make Byron step on one of those.” Raelle grumbled and headed into the kitchen, lightly favoring her foot, “Might need you to give me a thorough examination later to make sure I’ll survive. Thinking bedrest is in order. Maybe a sponge bath.”

“I’ll call Lucy. Tell her we need to make an appointment for you.”

“Tell her my wife is wild and had her wicked way with me last night. Got me drunk and everything. My medical opinion is that I need a cookie and my wife shouldn't tease me while my pop waits outside in the cold.” She disappeared into the kitchen.

Scylla shook her head in amused exasperation and went to the door. She pulled it open to come face to face with a cheerful Edwin Collar.

“Hi, Scylla.” he greeted affably with blue eyes that sparkled like his daughter’s when the sun hit them just right and he was surrounded by people he loved. He carefully reached out and pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back, “You look good, kiddo. Told you that old recipe could cure any hangover.” 

“Hi, Ed.” Scylla briefly tucked her face in his shoulder, breathing in the comforting smell of grease and fresh Cession fields that still clung to his coat. If she closed her eyes, she could picture visiting Raelle’s childhood home. The calmness of the countryside. The quiet comfort of her old quilt. The subtle buzz of nature and the sense of belonging. Edwin gave her a little squeeze before she moved out of his arms. She stepped aside so he could enter, “I think Raelle drank most of it.” Their Yule celebrations had included quite a few bottles of moonshine and whiskey masquerading as hot toddies and punch. 

Shrugging off his coat and toe-ing out of his boots, he looked around the home, “Where’s my grandkid?”

“Upstairs.” Scylla answered. She took his coat and hung it up, “Thank you for offering to watch her while Raelle and I go out.”

“No thanks needed.” He waved her off, “You know I want to spend as much time as I can with Hen. You two deserve some time alone, anyways. Now, tell me, is my daughter treating you right or do I need to have a talk with her?”

“Raelle is great. No need to sign the divorce papers, yet.”

“Yet?”

“Need to see if she’ll finally wash those dishes or not.”

“Ah,” he nodded, “she never was too good at doing those chores. Too busy getting herself in trouble.”

“Sounds like my wife.”

“Pop!” Raelle walked out of the kitchen, “Don’t be telling her things like that.”

“Why not?” Scylla glanced at her, “Next you’ll tell me you don’t get grumpy when you’re hungover.”

“I don’t get hungover.” Raelle hugged her father tightly. 

“No, Collars sure don’t.” Edwin winked at Scylla over the blonde’s shoulder before releasing her. He slid back to hold her out at arm’s length, eyes roaming over his daughter’s face, “No sir, you don’t look half as bad as you did last night. Got a bit of good color in your cheeks. Not nearly as wobbly.”

Raelle rolled her eyes, “I wasn’t that bad.”

“You proposed...twice.” Scylla pointed out.

Raelle’d forgotten the ring the first time.

The second time was after she was reminded Scylla already had the ring.

“You said yes.” 

“There were people watching, honey. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings in front of our friends.”

Raelle narrowed her eyes at her, “You’re so mean to me.”

“Not what you said yesterday.”

“My mouth was a bit full yesterday.”

“With the cookies you tried to sneak away with.”

"Needed energy for later."

"You didn't do much work later."

"Oh, I put in the work, Scyl. _Hours_."

"Must be why you were so grumpy when you woke up this morning hungover. Worked yourself too hard."

"I wasn't grumpy."

“You sort of were, Rae.” her father shrugged. 

Raelle squinted at him.

Traitor.

“Don’t worry. I’ll have Abigail send some cookies as a get-well gift when I inform her you’ve been gravely injured by a lego.” Scylla tossed out.

Raelle turned her squint on Scylla.

Book club.

“Do you two actually read books or just talk about me?”

Scylla simply smiled at her, then turned to Edwin, “We’ll only be a few hours. I need to pick something up from my office, and then we are getting lunch.”

“Take all the time you want.” Edwin rubbed his hands together, “Henley and I have big plans.”

Which most likely meant watching whatever ball game was on television that the grandpa would heroically try to explain to the young girl, who didn’t have one athletic bone in her body, followed by the man entertaining the child with old card tricks while feasting on leftover cookies and tall frosty glasses of milk. Depending on the mood, the ball game might get switched out for a romp in the backyard and Henley excitedly explaining to him everything she’d learned since they’d last seen each other and all the thoughts brewing in her head. If he was lucky, there’d even be a personal tour of the mushroom garden and a presentation of all the books stacked up in her room.

For emergencies, which meant the youngest witch wanting to frolic and play in the cold slushy snow, he had a backup plan of hot chocolate with marshmallows and teaching her to play Old Maid with his deck of cards.

“Don’t go too crazy, Pop.” Raelle grabbed her shoes and slipped into them as Scylla plucked up their coats. 

“I know you won’t need it, but my office number and the restaurant are written on a note in the kitchen.” Scylla handed Raelle her coat before tugging her own on, “Henley is back to grape jelly now.”

Raelle mumbled under her breath as she put on her coat, "Jam...jelly...it tastes the same. I just bought two jars of the stuff." 

Peanut butter and jelly was going to be what defeated her. 

It was never going to be the legos.

It was whether or not to cut up and down or at an angle when dividing the sandwich into two.

And no crust, because they're not monsters.

“We’ll be fine. You two have a good time.” Edwin ushered them to the door. “Take a walk or catch a movie after lunch. No rush.”

The couple had plans for a quick child-free date, and Edwin had plans to spoil his granddaughter until he left for home.

He didn’t get to see his granddaughter all that much, not nearly as much as he’d like to, and he knew his daughter and daughter-in-law didn’t get to be alone like they’d used to.

They could kill two birds with one stone.

But, it required that Scylla and Raelle leave.

With the chill of the outside hovering around the closed front door, Scylla reached for her boots while Raelle stood with her back to the wooden barrier. The blonde’s hands unconsciously rubbed together, her thumb pressing into the palm of her hand and her fingers curling around it. She ran a finger against the smooth gold on her finger that Tally mentioned getting shined for her once. But, that required Raelle taking it off.

She never took it off.

It was shiny enough right where it was.

“Pop?” Raelle spoke up quietly, casting a quick glance at the floor as she murmured just loud enough for his old ears to catch, “You ok?”

The room seemed to grow quiet, the cold drifting in more fully as the words hung in the air.

Edwin rocked back on his heels. His smile teetered a bit, grew a little less happy, but it didn’t disappear, “Ah, you know us Collars, Rae.”

Raelle exhaled frustratedly and pressed her lips together as her jaw ticked, “You met up with mama this morning.”

Time stopped for a second.

Scylla paused from putting on her shoes and peered up at Raelle, half in question, half searching, ready to pounce in support if need be.

They had briefly discussed how Edwin was going to get breakfast with Willa that morning, but they hadn’t talked about confronting him about it.

Raelle’s alcohol induced headache as they laid in bed hadn’t helped her torn heart.

Even after all these years, Willa was a touchy subject.

She always would be with them.

Edwin sighed and nodded, “I did. We talked. Had a nice meal.” He caught Raelle’s gaze, “I’m alright. Your mama and I...she’s always going to be the mother of my child. Grandma to my grandkid. She helped bring you home. That ain’t going to change. We can talk every now and then. Don’t worry about me. I can handle your mama just fine.”

Scylla straightened and slid up to Raelle’s side, sneaking a hand across her back and rubbing gently as Raelle took this in. The words wrapped up in feelings vibrated just beneath the surface, locked up in a twisted tangled mess that sometimes had the blonde not knowing how to say what she felt or even understand it all. 

Willa was Willa.

Her mom.

The fixer she idolized as a child.

The woman she mourned as a teenager.

The witch who chose to break her family.

The Spree leader who lied to so many.

“I’m ok, Rae.” Edwin offered them both a grin, “You and your pretty wife better get out of her before I kick you out. I’ll do it.”

Raelle opened her mouth to say something, but quickly closed it. She chewed on her bottom lip and traced the edge of her ring before pulling her shoulders back and gently leaning into the hand lovingly trailing along her spine.

“Ok.” 

Raelle let it go.

For now. 

Until she was in the car with Scylla and could try to work through the jumbled emotions. The hate. The sorrow. The anger. The love that would never truly go away.

A few emotions that manifested in Scylla when she thought of the woman who brought her and Raelle together but also helped tear them apart. Who hurt her family. Who still cared for her family.

“Good.” Edwin took a step back further into the house.

Scylla scratched Raelle’s back and reached for her hand as the blonde blinked her gaze clear, “Let’s go. I still need to grab those papers before our reservation.”

Raelle squeezed her hand and laced their fingers together, “Hen! We’re leaving!” The fixer shouted toward the stairs, “Grandpa’s here.”

A small thump followed by a tiny yell, “Grandpa!” Then, “Bye Mom! Bye Mama!”

Scylla’s face tilted as Raelle frowned.

Usually, Henley would sprint down to hug them goodbye and greet Edwin. Basically divebomb her way into the huddle.

There was no sign of a daredevil human torpedo with dark hair like her mom and a mischievous twinkle in her eye like her mama.

The parents shared a look.

“Probably got herself tangled up in something. I’ll go and find her.” Edwin offered them another nod, “Go on, now. I’m kicking you out. Don’t test me. I might be old, but I still got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“I know you keep the card there for that one magic trick, Pop.” Raelle replied easily.

“Always too smart for your own good.” 

The fixer sighed and peeked at the woman next to her.

Raelle and Scylla shared one more look. 

Should they go check on her?

“Get going before you miss lunch.” Edwin shoo-ed, not letting the two worry too much, “It’s Grandpa and Grandkid time. Let me spoil my granddaughter.”

“Alright, we’re going.” Raelle held up a hand in surrender. She wrapped her arm around her father for a quick hug, “Watch out for legos. Things are everywhere.”

“Yet, you’re the only one who steps on them.” Scylla touched Edwin’s arm as Raelle moved away, their hands unlinking.

The blonde opened the front door, “Can we get a kid who doesn’t play with legos? Trade her in?”

“Not how it works.”

“Could knock you up again.”

“Or you could just watch where you walk.”

“Making a kid is a lot more fun.”

“Is that why you almost passed out when we did?”

“I didn’t almost pass out.”

“You were so nervous you almost paced into a wall.”

“I did not.”

“It was cute.” Scylla pecked her cheek. “And we don’t need another one. I can barely handle the two I already have.”

“Whatever.” Raelle shook her head and strolled out the door, “Bye Pop! Don’t burn the house down. My wife doesn’t like that.” She shoved her hands in her coat pockets, “Goddess, it’s cold out here.”

“We’ll see you later. Say bye to Henley for us. She’s probably in her room with that new toy Byron got for her or the new book from Izadora.” Scylla picked up the keys from the little bowl next to the door and followed after her wife.

Edwin waved at them as they got in the car and carefully drove away. Closing the door, he took a deep breath and meandered through the room and to the stairs. 

He climbed the steps, his body creaking just as much as the old step Raelle hadn’t let him fix yet. Something about a list and tradition and how it would get done eventually. He shook his head at his daughter. She could get something done in a jiffy or put it off until it smacked her in the face.

Willa’d have said she got that from him.

Blinking sadly at the thought of his ex-wife, he quickly pushed those thoughts away. No good thinking about that all now. Not when he only had a little while to spend with his granddaughter before having to head back to the Cession. Back to the house with the photos of this little Ramshorn-Collar family up on the mantle where pictures of his wedding and early days used to be. Pictures he could look at when the days got long and lonely. When his hands were still smelling of grease and grime from the shop no matter how many times he washed them. When the memories of burying his daughter popped back in his head. When he boxed up a bottle of moonshine he’d driven two hours to get from a guy with a contraption in his backyard that somehow made stuff better than anything in the store and mailed it out to his kid and her wife.

He sometimes couldn’t believe it. He was a father-in-law. A grandpa. His kid was happy and healthy with a beautiful family. 

Alive and living the way he’d always prayed for, even when he didn’t know if anyone was listening.

Reaching the top of the stairs, he paused to stretch his back and flex his fingers. Joints were getting rustier than the old grill he hadn’t fired up since long before Raelle enlisted. Thing was nothing more than a hunk of greasy cracked metal now, but he hadn’t gotten around to tossing it. Probably would get rid of it the same time Raelle got that damn step fixed up.

Shaking his head at the way they were, he walked down the hallway. His palm rubbed at the back of his head as he went, and he bit back a grimace as his back ached. He knew Raelle had offered to help him, but he didn’t want his kid worrying or nothing. She might be a fixer, an adult, all grown up with a wife and kid of her own, but she was still his daughter. He still wanted to protect her. He couldn’t when she was in the army, but he sure could help out the best he could now. Staying up late with her on the phone when Henley was crying and she didn’t know what to do. Watching Henley so her and Scylla could go out on the town for a while. Sending a bottle of the Cession’s finest to the parents and little odds and ends he’d find that he thought Henley would like. Giving Scylla a hug even though she never asked for one, because that girl deserved a hug. He could see it. Her eyes weren’t as heavy as they used to be. The weight off her shoulders. But, she was still that girl he first met at his daughter’s funeral. She was still the girl who needed to be wrapped up and told it’d be alright. She’d be alright. 

Passing by an open door, he heard some shuffling and quiet muttering. 

Frowning, he dipped around to take a look.

That was Raelle and Scylla’s bedroom.

Peering in, his heart stuttered.

The closet door was flung wide open, and pairs of shoes were strewn about and clothes twisted on their hangers.

A box had been dragged out and plopped down on the floor by the dresser.

That’s when his gaze landed on her.

Standing as tall as she could, Henley had shoved her tiny feet into a pair of black boots that looked big on her. A dark blue coat, buttons dulled but still proud, was draped over her shoulders and flowed down her back like the old creek back home after a large summer storm had the waters full and raging. 

Henley was wearing Raelle’s old uniform.

His heart gave a painful stutter.

Swallowing thickly, he smoothed out the tremble in his voice, “Henley?”

The little girl spun around, hair whipping like a tornado. A delighted grin spread across her cheeks and her entire face lit up like the Christmas lights strewn across the neighbor’s house, “Grandpa!”

“Hey, kiddo.” Edwin stepped into the room as she bolted toward him like a human windstrike. He easily scooped her up into his arms and hugged her. She disappeared in his hold, little face pressed into his shoulder and hands grabbing at the sides of his shirt. He closed his eyes and pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head. “You’re getting so big. Musta grown two feet since I last saw ya.”

Henley giggled, “You saw me this morning!”

“Gotta put a brick on your head. Growing up way too fast.” 

“Grandpa, no. That’s silly.”

Chuckling, he set her down on her feet, stomach clenching at the flash of blue and black. Taking another breath, he asked, “What’re ya doin’ up here? Ya ain’t supposed ta be in your parents’ room, are ya?”

Henley ducked her head, and he finally noticed the small pile of paper clutched in her hands as she mumbled, “No...but…” her head lifted back up, an almost defiance in her eyes, “Look!”

He did look.

And it made his chest ache.

He had a feeling Scylla and Raelle didn’t know about this.

There was no way they knew about this.

“Almost fits. I look just like mama did. And Aunt Tally and Aunt Abigail. Aunt Anacostia and Aunt Izadora and Aunt Glory.” Henley proudly showed off her outfit. “I’m going to be just like them when I grow up. Gonna help people. Just like mom and mama did. Be brave. Defeat all the monsters like the ones that try to hide under my bed.”

Edwin gulped.

There was no way his daughter or daughter-in-law knew about this.

“Mama’s boots are really big.” Henley observed. She marched in place, the leather creaking from disuse.

“Henley,” Edwin spoke slowly, “Those are your mama’s old things. Had them put away, didn’t she?”

“Yeah, but I found ‘em.” Henley lifted up the papers, “These, too.”

Brow crinkling, he plucked the papers up out of her tiny fist.

His heart stopped for a beat.

They were letters.

He could see the slightly smeared ink. The hastily scribbled words. Could almost still smell the dust and wind and loneliness clinging to the aged paper.

They were letters from the war.

From when Scylla and Raelle were apart.

When sometimes the only way they could talk was by the mail or begging someone to take a letter with them if they were being sent abroad or back to the states. 

“What do they say?” Henley asked, peering up at him innocently. She lifted up onto her toes to try to look. Eyes so much like her mom’s, curious and sharp.

Edwin worked his jaw a few moments, fighting for the right thing to say, “You shouldn’t have these, Hen.”

These were personal.

Very personal.

Filled with heartache and love and longing and fear. When neither woman knew if the other would survive. If they had a future. When they’d yearningly mention how they hoped to one day have what they finally did. Freedom. Joy. A chance to rest. To be together.

Letters like that weren’t meant to be seen by anyone else.

Weren’t meant to be touched or trifled with.

These were memories.

Painful memories.

Something he knew neither woman would want their child to see.

“Oh.” Henley’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see ‘em.” She fiddled with one of the big brass buttons on the coat and twisted the chain of the medal hung around her neck, “Just wanted to know. They were there, and I can read better than everyone in my class, even better than Jade and Marcus and Casey. Mama wrote that one, I think. And Mom wrote one. I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

Sighing, he knelt down, back and knees creaking, “It’s ok, Hen. I’m not mad. Some things are for grown ups. These here letters are for your parents only. Bet they were hidden away, right? Out of sight?”

Henley nodded sadly. 

“That means they aren’t for little girls to look at.”

Remorseful dark blues met his own sky blue gaze, “Do you have letters?”

He nodded, “I do.” Until Willa faked her death. So many letters he cherished. His only connection many times to his wife. To the mother of his child. His heart. Then, letters he got from Raelle. Chipper little notes he knew couldn’t be true. Scraps of words where his kid tried to protect him no matter how much he wished it was the other way around, “These here. They’re letters your mama and mom sent to each other. Back when they weren’t able to be together. A long long time ago. So long ago, you don’t need to worry about it right now. Maybe when you’re older.”

If the parents decided to tell her about that time in their lives.

A time he knew they barely talked about now.

“Mom and mama weren’t t’gether?”

There was no way he could talk to her about that.

It wasn’t his place.

Wasn’t his story.

And, he likely couldn’t get through it without tearing up.

Edwin placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, “Henley. If I tell you a story, you promise to help me put all this away?”

Henley frowned in thought, her mind working fast.

She didn’t want to take off her mama’s clothes.

She liked them. 

Liked the feel of her boots and the weight of the coat.

It felt right.

Made her feel grown up. Important. Smart and brave.

Like her mama.

She could be just like her. 

Do cool things like her mom and wear shiny buttons like her mama.

She could be like both of them.

But, she liked stories.

She liked all sorts of stories. The ones her mom told her about life and death and how beautiful everything was. The ones her mama told her about pirates and princesses and fun quests. The ones her Aunt Tally told her about how her parents were brave. How they all went on adventures. Saw the whole world. 

She liked her grandpa’s stories about funny little animals and her mama when she was her age and all sorts of fun silly stuff.

She could put the uniform back on later. After her grandpa had fallen asleep in front of the television and her mom and mama were busy making dinner.

“Ok.” Henley agreed. She thrust her hand out, “Shake on it.”

She’d seen grown ups do that all the time. It was required for serious agreements.

Edwin enveloped her little hand in his, “We got ourselves a deal, Hen. Now, get yourself out of those boots, and I’ll think up a good story for ya.”

“Ok, but make sure it’s a good one!” 

“Sure will.” he watched her stumble toward the closet, the boots much too big for her. Blinking, he looked down at the pile of papers he’d taken from her. His gaze caught on smudged shakily scrawled words.

_Dear Scylla,_

_I don’t want to, but I’m writing this in case something happens._

_So, if you get this, I’m not coming home. And, you can’t come find me this time._

_I want you to know I love you. I’ve always loved you. I always will. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me._

_I just want to go home. I’ve seen enough of the world. Don’t want to go anywhere except where you are. The beach. Our apartment. Just want to stay there with you. At home. If I never had to leave home again, or leave your side, I’d be happy._

_I miss you so much._

_But, if I can’t go home, I want you to know I wanted to. I tried. And, I’m sure we’ll see each other sometime in the future. After you’ve lived a really long life. I’ll maybe find your parents and wait with them. I don’t want you to hurry up or anything. I want you to take your time. Just know we’re waiting and we’ll be ok for a while. Maybe this time I’ll find you. Let my dad know I love him, too. Feel free to go stay with him for a while. He likes you. But, don’t be sad. I’ll miss you like crazy, but I’ll be ok wherever I end up._

Edwin quickly folded the letters back up.

He felt like he couldn’t breathe. The lump in his throat dropped to his stomach, and tears burned the backs of his eyes.

He was holding Raelle’s goodbye letter to Scylla.

He was holding his daughter’s goodbye.

“Grandpa?” Henley called over from where she was spread out on the floor and wrestling the boots off. She gave a harsh tug, nearly toppling over, and determinedly bit her lip.

These things were trickier than they looked.

Edwin rubbed at his face, calloused oil stained palms scrubbing away the words and memories that would follow him to sleep that night, and put on a smile, “I ever tell you about the raccoon that used ta live in our roof? Scared the living daylights outta your mama as a kid.” 

He made sure the letters were safely put back in the box, out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit longer this time around. 
> 
> Thoughts? Good? Bad? Hate it? Tolerate it? Let me know!
> 
> Cookies! You know the system. 1 for reading. 2 for reading and kudos. A girl scout will haunt your doorstep if you read and comment.


	22. Hanky-Panky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raelle brushed her lips along the curve of her cheek and rested her forehead against Scylla’s, “Gonna make ya feel good. Promise.” She ran her palm down the brunette’s arm till she bumped into her hand. Their fingers laced together, the ring on Scylla’s finger nudging against Raelle’s skin. She touched her thumb to the slim yet strong band, “You’re gonna be my wife.”
> 
> A frustrated huff, “Not if you don’t start moving.”
> 
> “Usin’ me for sex.” Raelle smirked lazily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy folks. We are taking place before Cession Champagne or Old Fashion. 
> 
> Also, this is the product of certain people prodding continuously for this 'moment' (you know who you are). Blame them for this. (Also, I guess this means if you keep asking enough, I'll end up writing it. Oh gosh...)
> 
> Finally, yes. This is the name of an actual drink. It had to be used.

The pressure began to build low in her belly, hand grasping at her fiancee's back as deft fingers stroked, slow and steady, a calm hypnotic rhythm that had her on the edge, holding her just above the abyss, pushing her closer and closer but not letting her fall. Her head rolled forward onto a strong shoulder, and she muttered a curse as a finger swirled the hot liquid pooling between her thighs. 

Lips smoothed along her temple, shushing her gently. Scylla sucked in a breath as the fingers spread her open, carefully exploring folds and dipping inside only to search out the small nub that sent a spark through her when tapped gently by a calloused thumb.

Gulping, her voice growled into the crease of a jacket, “Raelle,”

“Shh,” Raelle kissed her hair, “Relax.”

Scylla huffed, hips canting to meet dancing fingers, “Stop teasing me.”

She could feel the smirk as a honeyed drawl dripped like syrup into her ear, “‘ppreciatin’ not teasin’.” She kissed her hairline, “Prettiest gal around.” Raelle nuzzled her cheek, drawing her into a kiss, “Let me make you feel good, baby.”

Scylla melted into the kiss, breath leaving her as the thumb tapped her again before rubbing firm tight circles. She blindly wove her fingers into golden braids, tugging her closer as she angled her head, kissing her hard as her other hand clawed at Raelle’s belt. 

Biting the blonde’s bottom lip, she flicked open the buckle and undid the button. The zipper lowered a moment later. 

Her smirk pressed against Raelle’s wet mouth as her hand ducked inside, bumping into the toy that had been tucked away for half the night, “On your back, soldier.”

Raelle’s eyes fluttered at the command, “So demanding.”

“You love it.” Scylla pushed lightly at her chest, the blonde easily falling back onto the bed. 

Raelle gazed up at her with a lazy grin, “I love you.”

“I would hope so, since you gave me a ring.”

The grin turned smug, “I put a ring on it.”

Scylla sashayed up to her, ring sparkling as she slipped out of the last vestiges of clothing covering her from view, “Pants, Rae.”

Raelle quickly shucked off her trousers and briefs, the rest of her clothes following soon after, smirk never leaving, “You’re going to marry me.”

Scylla urged her fully back onto the bed, crawling after her, “Happy anniversary, Raelle.”

“Happy anniversary,” blue eyes watched as Scylla touched the toy strapped between Raelle’s legs.

Scylla settled her knees on either side of Raelle’s hips, “Know what would make me happy, Rae?”

“What?” she gulped.

Scylla guided the toy to her entrance, “Make me scream your name.”

Bright blue eyes darkened with a barely held in storm of desire as they watched her slowly lower herself, the strap smoothly sinking into her with a quiet gasp that drew Raelle’s gaze to the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. Mesmerizing elegant lashes fluttered and a winsome pink mouth trembled as teeth snuck out to bite down on the plump flesh.

“Goddess, you’re beautiful.” Raelle breathed. “I love you.”

Scylla hummed and leaned forward, her hair falling like a halo around her flushed face, “Show me.”

With a throaty growl, Raelle surged up and smashed her lips to Scylla’s, swallowing the excited gasp with the tip of her tongue. Tasting the last flecks of the chocolate they’d shared for dessert and hint of gin in that last drink the other witch had savored long enough to lightly stroke Raelle’s thigh under the table and bite the tiny stick that came with her martini until the blonde could barely pay attention to anything other than getting her home, she teased her hands around Scylla’s sides, tracing the length of her ribs and dipping around to pressing along the stretch of her spine. 

Scylla rocked lightly, breath stuttering at the fullness deep inside of her. She kissed the blonde harder, shuddering at the feel of her breasts pressed against Raelle’s and the wet mouth hungrily meeting hers. Her hand slipped between them, and her palm found the jagged thin white line above a pounding heart. She touched the scar, the slightly raised flesh coarse yet comforting, familiar yet foreign. A reminder of how she almost lost Raelle. How much she was willing to give for her. How much they were willing to fight to be together. 

Breaking away from her lover’s lips, Scylla ducked her head, moving her hand to press a kiss to the mark marring the otherwise unblemished chest. Her tongue trailed up the cut, replacing haunting ghosts with silent vows. 

Raelle brushed a kiss to the top of her head and nuzzled into her hair, voice scratchy with bourbon and need, “Scyl.” Her hips subtly rocked up, asking, begging, demanding, the air between them molten in hitched breaths.

Scylla softly kissed the beat beneath her lips, “I love you. No matter what.”

She loved Raelle.

With everything inside of her.

Years. Months. Weeks. Days.

She loved her every moment.

A hand curled around Scylla’s jaw and guided her up into a slow deep kiss that had both of them aching with a kind of want and love that could never be fully satiated. Would always linger just beneath the surface, tickling the senses and drawing them to each other, an unbreakable thread looped between them that kept them coming back together again and again, never able to stray too far, never wanting to.

A lighthouse in the distance, guiding them home.

Without warning, she felt Raelle’s grip tighten, and, in a heartbeat, she was on her back, Raelle pressing her into the bed as her hips pulled back, letting the toy glide out of her, rubbing in a way that made a whine cry out in the back of her throat.

“So beautiful.” Raelle sucked lightly on her top lip, “Prettiest gal ‘round.”

“Rae,” her hips shifted up, needing more, needing something, anything. Needing to feel her inside of her. Moving. Loving her. 

Needing her.

Her.

Always her.

Raelle brushed her lips along the curve of her cheek and rested her forehead against Scylla’s, “Gonna make ya feel good. Promise.” She ran her palm down the brunette’s arm till she bumped into her hand. Their fingers laced together, the ring on Scylla’s finger nudging against Raelle’s skin. She touched her thumb to the slim yet strong band, “You’re gonna be my wife.”

A frustrated huff, “Not if you don’t start moving.”

“Usin’ me for sex.” Raelle smirked lazily. She carefully thrust her hips forward, gently entering Scylla.

“Better make it good.” Scylla inhaled as she slowly stretched around the toy.

“Always, baby. I earn my keep.” Raelle set a slow easy pace, hips rocking into Scylla’s in a steady rhythm that matched the beat thrumming in her veins and tapping against her chest. Her breath stuttered as legs wrapped more fully around her waist and an arm slid around her shoulders, hand weaving into the mess of braids and loose locks at the back of her head. She squeezed the hand in her own, skin sparking as Scylla squeezed back.

“Love you.” Raelle traced the tip of her nose against Scylla’s. She watched heavy lidded eyes peer up at her.

She loved those eyes.

Could spend lifetimes looking into them and never see everything that hid in their bottomless depths. 

Would dream about them when she was gone. Would see them when she closed her eyes during the brief moments of sleep between battles and imagined them watching her, reading along with her as she worked through another letter, the world drifting away and replaced by warm arms and a peaceful presence. Thought about them when she was at Fort Salem, the days long and tiring, streaming into late nights that kept her away from her girlfriend. Remembered them when she was cold or exhausted or angry at the lack of respect, the lack of understanding or support for a department brought to the brink of ruin and desperately clawing its way back from collapse.

She felt Scylla with her wherever she was. 

Held those blue eyes in her mind and soul.

Kept the love between them burning in her heart until she could return to the flame, let Scylla reignite the limitless desire and devotion within her that never extinguished, never truly faltered.

“Always gonna love you.” Raelle vowed. “Best thing in my life.”

Even when they fought. Even when everything got so dark she didn’t know if she would ever see a flash of light, Raelle loved her. Since she was a kid caught up in a sultry smirk and a sexy yet sad mysteriousness that had her stumbling over her own feet and asking for midnight dances, she’d been Scylla’s. 

She would always be Scylla’s. Out of everything she knew. Saw. Heard. Lived. She knew that one thing was for certain. She loved Scylla.

She would never stop loving her.

Scylla guided her down into another kiss, nibbling at her bottom lip as the brunette rocked up to meet each thrust.

A warmth enveloped their joined hands. A comfortable familiar heat that slipped up their arms and tenderly draped around their bodies. Their hearts became one, beating in time with each other. 

Scylla opened her eyes fully to catch a swirl of sky and ocean meeting on the distant horizon looking at her with so much love it made her lose all sense of anything except how unending the devotion in those eyes was and the feel of the woman above her moving gently inside of her. 

Tilting her head, Scylla kissed Raelle, the sensations in her soul dripping on the edge of her mouth and painting the curve of her lips, love and hope and a pure happiness she never thought was possible brushing against Raelle’s lips and flooding into her own heart. She closed her eyes tighter as the overwhelming feeling of adoration and _right_ clouded her mind and filled her every breath. Sung in her veins and darkened her gaze with unspoken dreams they shared only with each other. When the lights were low and their words were whispers in the silence. When their bodies came together and the only beings that existed in the universe were them. 

Two witches, two women, in love.

Raelle and Scylla.

Scylla and Raelle.

A lovely tightening in her lower belly caused Scylla to arch up, her face pressing against Raelle’s as her hand held on tightly to the blonde’s.

“I got you.” Raelle coaxed gently. “I love you.”

“Raelle.” 

“Right here. Not goin’ anywhere.” her thumb rubbed against Scylla’s knuckle, “Gonna marry you, Scyl. Gonna have forever with you.”

Scylla’s head tipped back and her eyes widened as the pressure snapped in a wave of sensations that had her tumbling over an edge into a sea of clouds and rolling flashing sparks. 

Raelle slowed her thrusts, pressing kisses to the other woman’s face as they rode out the softly crashing tide together.

Catching her breath, Scylla let go of Raelle’s hand, letting her fingertips trickle along the side of her palm before cupping her face. She lightly kissed the blonde, a heartfelt touch that had Raelle melting into her.

“Raelle?”

“Hmmm?” Raelle leaned into her touch.

Scylla’s mouth hovered under hers as the pad of her thumb rubbed the red of her cheek, “You’ve been doing all that running. All those pushups.”

“Yeah?” 

“Best part of my morning.” Scylla nipped at her lip, “Put those muscles to work.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

* * *

The room was dark, only the faint bluish glow of the hours just before dawn filtered in through the partially closed blinds of the window, the sun still yet to rise or the moon to fall. The pleasant hum of Fort Salem was just at the edge of the senses, a comforting warning that called with dreaded painful allure. The calm spring air bespoke of bright green grass and blooming flowers, the sweet earthy scent a balm on the crest of a meandering breeze. Scylla sleepily tucked her face further into the gentle sweat glistened shoulder pillowed beneath her head and let her fingers glide tiredly up and down a path she knew by heart, bumping over the jut of Raelle’s ribs and sweeping down to her hip before dancing back up. She tilted her head and let her lips linger on a small patch of skin, still slightly red from her ministrations hours earlier.

Raelle hummed happily, eyes closed and mouth fluttering up into a small grin at the feel of the other woman in her arms. She caressed her back, movement lethargic and tender, and dipped her chin to let her words hover in mussed hair, “You’re awake?”

“You were snoring.”

“I don’t snore.” Raelle huffed.

“Loud. Like a tractor. Oncoming train.”

“Shut up.”

“Hmmm...can you hear me over your snores?” she smirked, teeth grazing as her smile dragged across Raelle’s skin. “You fell asleep so fast.”

“Spent the night making love to my fiancee. She tried to get me drunk on our anniversary and have her way with me.” 

“You should probably do more pushups if one night wears you out that much. Especially since you ended up on your back for half of it.”

“So mean to me.” her fingers slinked up to tickle Scylla’s side. 

Scylla squirmed, “You still proposed.”

“Yeah, I did.” Raelle’s smile grew, and her eyes softened with a brightness that filled her soul with a joy she could neer fully describe, “Might have to do it again. Make sure it sticks.”

“Don’t.”

“Gotta be sure.” She reached over and grasped Scylla’s hand. The ring somehow still sparkled in the dim darkness as she brought it to her lips and placed a tiny kiss to the knuckle below it, the molasses smooth drawl coating her words, “Goin’ ta spend the rest of my life with ya.”

Scylla closed her eyes and nuzzled deeper into her, “I love you.”

“Happy anniversary.” 

“Happy anniversary.”

“Got tomorrow off.” Raelle began to fiddle with her fingers, their palms pressing together and tips tickling as they began a playful little dance, “Make love to you all mornin’? Breakfast in bed?”

“Run away to the beach?”

“Elope?”

“Piss Abigail off?” The Bellweather had been firm in attempting to corral their wedding into something respectable and _big_. She’d offered up the Bellweather estate and mentioned all sorts of things the couple didn’t really need. 

Like actual silver forks and spoons for the meal.

The efforts were appreciated, but they weren’t High Atlantics.

They weren’t Bellweathers.

They were just two people wanting to start their lives together with rings on their fingers.

“Leave my medal on the door? Let one of Gerit’s birds say our goodbyes?”

“You do like those birds.”

“Damn birds. Jus’ use the phone.”

“Could throw rocks at the window. You’re good at that.”

“Good at other things, too.”

“Like forgetting your keys and locking yourself out of the apartment?”

“Like knowing how to get a pretty girl in my bed.”

Scylla’s eyebrow ticked up, “Got a lot of pretty girls?”

“Naw,” Raelle’s grin was enough to melt them both into each other, “got the prettiest.”

Scylla rolled over to stretch out on top of her, earning an appreciative hum, “Old lines, honey.”

“Got you about to elope with me.”

“Think Anacostia is expecting it.”

“Anacostia is…” her words trailed off as a harsh ring echoed through the small apartment.

Both froze.

The phone continued to ring. 

Scylla lifted her head to glance at the small clock on the bedside table slightly blocked by a book with aged yellowed pages and intricate designs cut into the leather binding. She squinted into the dark. 

3:30am.

It was early.

Too early.

A call that early usually meant one thing.

The phone kept ringing. Loud. Brash. Not to be ignored.

Raelle groaned and scrubbed at her face.

Feeling the blonde begin to move, Scylla fought against the urge to hold her closer. Pull her further into her arms and not let her go.

She didn’t.

She couldn’t.

All she could do was tip to the side and hold back a sigh as the bed and blankets shifted.

With a grumble, Raelle crawled out of the bed, allowing Scylla to catch a glimpse of her naked back, muscles flexing as they stretched, before the fixer swiped up the closest shirt and tugged it on, the cotton crinkling around her shoulders and bunching up near her elbows, while stumbling into her briefs.

Scylla rolled onto her back, and her arm draped over her eyes as she listened to the blonde stagger out of the bedroom and to the phone. Her arm drifted up to rest on her forehead, and she swallowed against the tiny lump that formed in her throat.

A lump of frustration, resignation, and a small amount of fear she kept locked away, never revealing unless she was alone.

Never revealing it except for the very very rare night when she was by herself in an empty apartment or driving home from work, knowing her girlfriend wouldn’t be there. 

Just like she used to know back when Raelle was deployed. 

When they both were gone, unable to see each other. 

Unable to know where the other was.

Her ears picked up the muffled rumbling voice.

“Hello?”....”Yes, this is Cpt. Collar.”...”What?”....”No...no...is Larson there?”....”Damn it, yes. Yeah.”

Scylla eased out of the rumpled bed, the sheets once casually pulled up to her waist falling away to expose her bare skin to the tepid morning air, and shuffled over to the dresser. She quickly pulled out the first sweatshirt she touched, the string for the hood long gone, and slipped into it along with a pair of soft flannel pajama pants before creeping out toward the one-sided discussion.

In the eerie incandescent glow of the pre-dawn, she spotted Raelle huddled near the phone, the device pressed to her ear as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

She knew what that meant.

“Give me twenty...no, I’ll handle it...Quartermaine’s on her way? Shit. Ok.” Raelle sighed. “Yeah.” She hung up the phone, pausing and inhaling deeply as she locked her jaw.

Scylla leaned a shoulder against the wall and watched her.

Raelle was being called in to base.

The blonde bit her lip and picked the phone back up. She swiftly dialed and raised the phone to her ear. After a few seconds, she spoke up, “Hey, it’s Raelle….yeah...are you heading in today?” She paused as the other person spoke. “Yeah, I got a call….twenty? Thanks, Glory.” She hung up. Her hold on the phone stayed, though, gripping the receiver while her other hand curled into a fist and her jaw ticked.

Scylla wet her suddenly dry lips.

Glory was going to pick Raelle up and drive her to base.

“At least they waited till the day _after_ our anniversary.” the brunette finally spoke quietly into the silence.

Raelle’s arms dropped to her side and she turned to look at her, an exhausted remorseful glance that had Scylla pushing away from her perch and stepping up to her.

“Should only be a couple hours.” Raelle whispered, but the way her tone lowered and her grin disappeared had neither believing it. “Prob’ly just a mix up. Misunderstanding.”

Neither believed that, either.

“Anacostia always did want you out of my bed and focused on the army.” Scylla scratched her back and leaned to walk around her to the coffeemaker waiting patiently on the kitchen counter. “Go shower. I’ll make coffee.” 

It looked like she’d be on her own for the rest of the day, working on her research while trying to plan a few things for the wedding.

Raelle snatched Scylla’s hand before she could leave and brought the back of it to her mouth, “I love you.”

Scylla nodded, “I love you, too.”

She never doubted that.

“I’m going to make it back by lunch. I promise.”

“Raelle…” this wasn’t the first time she’d been called in when she was supposed to be off. 

It wouldn’t be the last.

Not when she was in charge of an entire department.

Not when there was always a slight chance of deployment.

Not as long as she wore the medal with her name and rank etched into the dulled metal.

It was something they’d both accepted. 

It was something they both had to accept.

Something Scylla was able to finally look past, ignore, because she was in love with Raelle, and being with Raelle meant being with someone who was at the army’s beck and call.

“I swear.” Raelle spoke firmly. “It’s our anniversary, and we still need to pick out cake for the wedding.”

“You just want cake.”

“And ice cream.”

Scylla rolled her eyes.

Raelle’s face turned serious, “I’m coming back, Scyl.”

Her heart dropped.

_I’m coming back._

Swallowing thickly, Scylla shakily kissed her cheek, “I know.”

They shared a look.

A look full of more words and memories and hopes and fears than they would ever be able to say aloud. 

Apologies and understanding and affection.

“It’s getting better.” Raelle murmured. “I won’t need to be there so much.”

“I’m with you, Raelle. I choose you. No matter what.” With one last small kiss, Scylla touched her forehead to the fixer’s, “I’ll see you soon.”

Raelle pursed her lips and reached up to cup her chin between her thumb and forefinger. She let her gaze roam over her face before landing on her eyes. “I’m with you, too. Always. No matter what.” 

Scylla’s chest shuddered and her mouth flickered.

She did the only thing she could do.

She let her heart skip a beat and pushed down the lingering phantom fears and worries that would never truly disappear. She focused on the woman in front of her. The woman she was in love with. Who was safe. Sound. Home. 

Who wasn’t leaving.

Who wasn’t going to be in danger.

Who wasn’t going to be deployed, sent away, by an army that didn’t care if she lived or died.

No, Raelle was still there. Still ok. Still the woman she woke up with and would go to sleep with later that night.

The woman she was going to exchange vows and continue to build a life with.

Raelle stared into her eyes, searching, vision flicking back and forth before she offered a tiny nod and slipped away toward the shower.

Scylla watched her walk away, not turning till she heard the bathroom door close and the sound of the water turning on.

Then, she moved to start the coffeemaker and fill the kettle for tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we have it! Good? Terrible? Never do that again? You have something you've been wondering about and/or want to see? Drop me a line. Or, well, a comment. No guarantees about what you want to see because...do have to stick with the story and such but...well...always worth a try, I suppose. Who knows what could happen? Certainly not me.
> 
> Cookies! There are cookies!


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